


Making a Mockery of Sin

by Inappropriateggplant



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Blood Drinking, Dark Crowley (Good Omens), Demon Summoning, Developing Relationship, Food Porn, Guilt, Haunting, Hurt/Comfort, Inaccurate Demonology, Jealousy, Light Horror, M/M, Mild Blood, Mind Games, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Crowley, Post-Canon, Protective Crowley, Psychological Drama, Rituals, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Slow Build, Soul Bond, Tension, Yes demonology is a real thing, and like everything else - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25244545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inappropriateggplant/pseuds/Inappropriateggplant
Summary: On temp hiatus!After summoning Crowley as a light-hearted prank, Aziraphale discovers that the two of them are bound to each other until the demon is able to help him fulfill whatever wish or intention he'd unknowingly created during the ritual.With no memory of what was going through his mind during those moments, he struggles to find a way to release Crowley from their connection.It seems he doesn't have all the time in the world, as there are some consequences that not even all his years of knowledge could've predicted, and he's soon forced to uncover aspects of himself and their friendship that he would've otherwise kept hidden deep down for eternity
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 205
Kudos: 274





	1. Bound Together

**Author's Note:**

> Welp I felt like writing something a bit darker so here we are! (⌐■_■)
> 
> Mind the tags!! If it's not ur thing go read some fluff or somethin my dudeヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノBe like our lord and savior Marie Kondo and do it if it sparks joy™

Aziraphale tutted around his store, a sneaky grin playing at his lips. He'd just had the most wonderful idea for a little prank to play on his friend, imaging how surprised he'd be to find himself suddenly transported _right_ into the angel's store in the middle of the night. Of course, he'd most likely be annoyed, but Aziraphale was sure a bit of banter and perhaps a glass or two of wine would dissolve any irritation. 

He'd been looking through a section of demonology books he kept in a very special and hidden compartment in a back room, with things he most certainly should _not_ be reading, and yet he'd been awfully bored as of late. He'd read enough to know how to do a basic summoning, and he decided, _what's the worst that could happen?_ He was a celestial being. If he accidentally made any errors, maybe called upon the wrong beast, he'd be sure to smite it right back to the depths where it came from.

Crowley had been awfully down lately, staying cooped up in his flat when he wasn't away on a road trip. This would be just the perfect thing to cheer him up!

A bit tipsy from a bottle of red, licking his lips merrily, he went about setting candles down in a at least somewhat circular...circle. A few imperfections due to his wobbly hands, but it'd suffice. There were patterns lined around in chalk, mostly things he copied at random, struggling to see clearly. From what he understood, most of it was for intention- more or less a concept within witchcraft that one's will determined an outcome. He'd heard this from miss Anathema often when she started rambling about her strange pastimes over tea.

It wasn't so much the sigils or incantations themselves that called upon an entity, but rather the desire of the one doing the summoning. The intentions. He had nothing but good intentions, intentions of seeing his best friend with a slight scowl before he broke into laughter. That should be more than enough, but he took the advice of the witch and snipped off a small lock of hair and placed it in the center, as well as an empty wineglass Crowley had used a few days prior. She'd said personal belongings could be an important aspect...then again, she'd also mentioned she'd never actually done a summoning ritual herself so he found himself questioning if there was any point in doing this step. It was worth a try!

He fondly drew the symbol he knew heart: the tattoo Crowley had had inked into the side of his face such a long time ago right in the center of the circle, smiling down at his work as he set about lighting each candle with a flick of the finger. Standing back, he closed his eyes and thought of the demon. 

Tall, angular, red hair that flashed like a little blaze of fire when the sun shone on it just right. The voice that tended to sound somewhere in between a choke and a rasp when he tried to put his thoughts together. A kindness that had become apparent over their time together, a desire to do little acts of service for Aziraphale without payment, a sly tongue that could always help him find a way out of any situation.

He cracked an eye open. Nothing had happened. He closed her eyes harder and thought again, trying to bring more life to the image.

He thought of the warmth that grew in his chest whenever they spoke, the way his body reacted to even the slightest of touches when their hands grazed. Of long conversations over even longer dinners, and still finding enough to say throughout the evenings with glasses of wine sloshing around in their hands as they laughed. 

Looking once more, he saw nothing but the same old store with a mess of a summoning circle, and grumbled under his breath. Clenching his eyes shut one last time, he reached back into his mind to draw out each and every memory that came to mind of Crowley. He hoped the rumor about a ritual such as this requiring one's blood wasn't true; it might stain the floor. In any case, he wasn't about to remove any. That was just unnecessary all around.

He thought of Eden, how dangerous and strange he seemed at the time, and how he'd slowly warmed up to the beast's presence over the years. He thought of the first time their skin connected, thumb rubbing over thumb as Crowley handed a precious bundle of books to his bewildered grasp. He thought of the day he finally had come to think of him as a friend, the feeling of relief he'd known when the fear of an impending apocalypse ended in such an outlandish fashion. 

He thought of how lucky he was to still have all of this, to still be able to call the demon whenever he pleased and talk about whatever came to mind, that'd he'd listen; he never seemed to tire of his voice. 

Sucking on his lip a little as a new, unexpected thought came up, remembering the first time he'd looked down at Crowley's mouth and wondered what it might feel like to rub a finger over. What it might feel like against his own. They'd tried it a time or two since Armageddon, in fact, and it'd taken both of them by surprise. It'd seemed like a logical thing to do, seeing humans do it all the time with those they were close to.

The first time it was brief, a connection that made him somehow very tingly and lightheaded. The second was nearly the same, but it lasted a good minute; he'd wanted to explore the sensation a little more that time, try to understand what made it feel so strangely good. There were hands on his face that time, pulling him closer all the while, and he remembered seeing the demon's face all rosy and twitchy, eyes filled with...something. It'd gotten an unexpected chuckle out of the angel, which seemed to irritate Crowley, since he immediately drew back and avoided making eye contact the rest of that day. They hadn't tried it since. Aziraphale wondered if he'd done something wrong.

He wanted to, though. He wanted to try and figure out what kind of itches were tugging all over his skin whenever they touched, why his throat constricted with nervousness even if there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He missed the warmth, the comfort within the moments of those two short kisses, being so close to someone he'd grown to care for in a way he still couldn't put into words. He'd been told that was an almost universal concept, the idea that some things were difficult to express with mere speech. He wanted to, though. He wanted to more than anything.

There was most likely always going to be an invisible wall between them due to their heritage. Virtue could not intertwine completely with iniquity, even if it wasn't something Crowley had any say in. He was made of something different, and had been ever since the sulfuric rivers met his tainting wings. There were unspoken rules, lines that neither of them could cross, though occasionally Aziraphale would ponder just what life might've been like without them. 

But well, some things could never change.

The angel jumped when he heard a fizzle of energy, snapping his eyes open to see tendrils of smoke rising up from the floorboards. He floundered backwards to his knees, seeing sparks of fire spit from the carpet and land as glowing embers around his shoes, which he quickly stomped out before they could burn a hole into the rug. The lights in the room blew out, leaving only the crimson display to burn his eyes and nose.

Gulping, he hesitantly looking up to see- yes! It _was_ Crowley! He'd really done it, really summoned something for the first time. He cupped his hands over his mouth to suppress a giggle of delight, jumping to his feet and hopping a little. He couldn't see the demon's face, but already knew he must be fuming with annoyance, and was already preparing a speech to settle his temper. 

"Crowley!" he chirped, walking around to see the beast's face, which was facing the opposite direction. He was hunched over strangely, limbs shaking and jerking. _Oh dear, he must be absolutely furious._

"Angel...what the **_fuck_ **have you done?" he rasped out, slowly sliding his gaze up with a glare that made Aziraphale's smile waver.

He clasped his hands together with worry, playing with his vest to stifle the anxiety. "Well I-I'm sorry, my dear, I just wanted to surprise you a little. I didn't mean any harm...were you busy?"

"You _summoned_ me?" he spat, eyes wide, knitting his brows with anger. There was a hiss in his voice, and it wasn't his usual teasing tone. Aziraphale had done something dreadfully wrong, he could already tell, and was stepping backwards as he tried to calm his heart rate.

"Ah, yes. I mean I suppose you could say that...I might've done something _akin_ to that, but it was- nevermind, dear, just go back to whatever it was you were doing. You look awfully pale...do you feel alright?" he questioned, better able to see Crowley's face as the fog of smoke began to dissipate.

"I _can't,_ angel. You're telling me you didn't even read up on a little thing called 'binding'?"

"Er...I didn't exactly...I grazed over the details somewhat. I didn't think many of my books could offer all that accurate of insight. Why do you say?"

"It means you're stuck with me till I grant whatever wish you had in mind. It's sort of like a fail-safe, since demons aren't exactly known for their loyalty. If you summon one, you do so with an intention, and we help you fulfill whatever that may be, can't leave till it's been done, or...Please tell me it's within my abilities, or we're going to have a real problem on our hands."

"Ah, well then...I'd like you to make me a cup of tea!"

"..."

"Er, is that okay to ask?" Crowley sighed, body already moving towards the kitchen. "Wouldn't it be easier to simply make one...?"

"You can ask for anything. I mean, quite literally, anything, and I have to comply- and no, can't use any powers unless absolutely necessary. Right now they're reserved for you."

"Me? What does that mean?" he questioned, trotting up behind him and plopping down on a bench, feeling his carelessness falter as he heard the definite growl in the demon's tone. 

"The summoner. Humans used to dabble in this sort of shite all the time, and generally it was for the purpose of black magic, murder...that sort of thing. Naturally, they needed to have extra insurance that no harm would come to them in the process, thus..." he waved his hand vaguely, another setting a kettle onto the stove, "S'all a bunch of rules that are hardly necessary these days, now that most people know not to go stepping their feet into uncharted territory." Aziraphale felt a little offended as he heard that, shame creeping up his spine. He knew somehow he'd hurt Crowley, but still didn't exactly understand why. 

"Well I suppose it's good to know no harm will come to me in these next five minutes while the water boils." he tried to joke, earning no smile in return for his efforts. "I do hope you'll forgive me for bothering you like this, I honestly only meant to ruffle your feathers just a bit. I didn't know it would be such an intricate process."

"Sss'been perfected for millions of years by witches and cultists, generally those who wanted to commit mass genocide and those who wanted to turn their families into a tubs full of blood and bones without leaving evidence of their part in it. It almost never works unless the summoner has extensive knowledge of the subject, and you're both an expert and somehow a complete novice to this entire subject. It's honestly quite laughable." The angel winced at his cold voice, shifting his shoulders to relieve a slight tension building up in them. 

"Well I promise I'll never do something like this again. I meant no harm..." he was cut off by the sound of the kettle boiling, and Crowley quickly swept it off the stove without so much as a mitt to protect his skin from the heat of the metallic handle. Reaching into a cabinet to pull out a cup, he stilled his hand as he waited for the angel to choose one to his liking. "Oh, that doesn't matter. Pick whichever you like, dear."

"Wish I could. Angel, the way this works is I do what _you_ say. My body just doesn't...do what I tell it to when I'm like this. It can only respond to clear orders." Surely enough, his body was frozen in place, looking over with a sheepish expression. "Fucking shit...tell me to do _something_." 

"Oh, then I suppose that will do." He pointed up to one of his usual winged mugs, about to walk over to the sofa before he was stopped by Crowley's questioning again.

"What kind of tea? Sugar and cream?"

"Ah..." he trailed, feeling a little put on the spotlight now that he realized the demon wasn't exaggerating. Not only that, but over all the hundreds of times he'd made the angel tea, he knew exactly how he liked it. He'd never had to ask before. "Darjeeling I suppose? Haven't had that in a while...just a cube of sugar?" Crowley nodded rigidly, putting the drink together with hands that were slightly wobbly.

Aziraphale finally slumped down to the couch, preparing to say his goodbyes as the tea was handed down to him. "Thank you, Crowley, it looks just perfect! Well, see you on Wednesday, perhaps? I'd quite like to see an arboretum while it's still fresh with new blooms outside.

The demon stood in front of him, awkwardly shifting from side to side, hands buried deep in his pockets. The angel could feel his stare, thoughtlessly bringing the cup of burning tea to his lips to sip despite how it would scorch. 

" **Stop**." The tea sloshed as he grabbed the Aziraphale's hand, a look of mortification blooming on his face as the angel looked down at the hold. He quickly released him, wedging both his hands back in his pockets. "Sorry, sorry. You were going to burn yourself. At the moment my every instinct is wired to keep you from any kind of damage."

"Oh, I see. How strange, I didn't think you were actually being serious." he spoke with a slight chuckle, nervously setting the cup down on a side table to cool, looking down at his hand which still felt strangely warm.

\---

"...Well then, I'm going to go ahead and take a big fat guess and say a cup of tea _wasn't_ what you were wishing for." Crowley said after a few long, silent minutes, Aziraphale having tried to come up with something to talk about the entire time. The tension in the room was thick and unbearable, and he still worried everything was his fault. It was, there was no question about it, but he'd like to have _something_ to blame besides himself, anyway. Maybe a faulty spell or something along those lines, but it was his own ignorance.

"...Hm? What's that?"

"If it was, I'd be gone by now. I'd just vanish, _poof!_ Appear back at my flat just like that and everything would be back to normal, but no. Angel, you've got to think back to the minutes-no, _seconds_ before you summoned me. What were you thinking about?"

"Ah...let me see...well I remember thinking about you. About what you looked like, some of our memories together. I wanted to paint a picture of you in my mind."

"No no, an _intention_. You must've had a wish of some kind."

"Um..." he remembered with a blush the moment he thought of their previously shared kisses, a flash of a few other various desires and melancholy emotions mixing around in his mind before he shut them out in an instant. "...No? I don't believe so...I suppose angels just aren't bound by the same rules. Go on and use a miracle to free yourself from this hold."

"I _can't,_ angel." he growled, slumping down on the sofa a few inches away. "S'a fucking _pact_. We're bound together till you figure out whatever it is you wanted, and I can somehow help you get it. Simple as that."

"Can't I simply...er...release you? Say that it's my wish that you be freed from our "binding"?" 

"Wouldn't it be nice if it was all that simple? And no, no you can't." he crossed his arms, a dark glare spreading across his face. Aziraphale crept a little farther away, sheepishly looking down at his tea in shame. "Nothing's ever simple with Hell and its bullshite laws."

"Oh dear..." he trailed, gulping down unease that tried to push its way upwards. "I apologize Crowley, I really do. I had no idea things would end up this way."

"...Ack! Don't give me that look, angel." he grumbled, scowling at Aziraphale's tender expression. "Whether you like it or not, I'm stuck here till you figure out your deepest desire, be it good or evil, and I have to help you get it. See, this is what always gets under my skin about summoning, being lowered down to the level of a _pet_."

"I obviously don't think of you as a pet." he muttered, sipping his tea with a shaky grasp. 

"I know, I know, but this has happened a few other times with those with very _impure_ intentions, and let me tell you it doesn't feel nice at all to be dragged around and forced to do the bidding of someone you've never met."

"I'm not going to make you do anything, dear."

"I'm not talking about you, just..." he sighed again, deeper this time, looking somewhere between defeated and embarrassed. "From this point onward, till you can get your memories up to shape, I'm essentially your servant. Do you understand that?"

"Ah, well, my first order as your...uh _master_ is that you will do anything you wish! Oh, and that you will no longer be my servant. Just my friend." This at least earned a chuckle this time, the demon wiping his brow and letting his eyes fall shut.

"Sorry, yet again the laws of the fucking universe go against your wishes. Isn't that just terrific? I wish I could just go back to bed, sleep for a couple weeks. S'too hot out right now anyway." Despite the obviously less-than-favorable situation, Aziraphale could tell something was off about the demon. His voice had a hollowness to it that couldn't have just been caused mere disappointment. It was something that must've been brewing for a long time. Perhaps from their last visit.

"Well, just go back to your flat, have a nap, and-"

"Can't leave, angel. Can't even walk ten feet away from you or it feels like I'm burning all over with holy fire- and besides, you have to give me _permission_ to sleep. If you don't I'll just lie there for hours on end. I'm quite literally at your disposal."

"Alright, then...ah, you can have the couch? I'll just do a bit of reading over here while you rest. I...I give you permission to sleep?" he mumbled, glancing back over at his thoroughly neglected stack of books on the occult. He had a long night of research ahead. 


	2. Everywhere is Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay no attention to the changing chapter estimation cause I ain't got any idea either ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I keep switching scenes around and forgetting where the feck I am 😂
> 
> Hopefully gonna update Ironing Out All the Wrinkles in a day or two, workin on that currently~
> 
> (If anybody got two update emails, it's cause apparently there's an error with ao3 where if you save a chapter as a draft ahead of time and then post, it thinks it's been posted on that date instead the current one?? I realized that my new chapters haven't been showing up on the update page, soooo gonna see if this works!)

"Angel."

"..."

"Angel!"

"Hm-what? Oh, sorry, my dear. I was focused on my book...what is it?" he looked up from a section on sigils, more or less right back where he'd started. He wanted to be thorough, to go through every page and read anything that he'd missed beforehand. He was a little rusty on his Latin, so it took a while to translate as he went. Crowley had fixed him with a hard stare from behind the sofa, tapping his foot restlessly. "Weren't you going to try to sleep?"

"I can't get a wink...and you can stop bothering with that already. I promise you're not going to find any answers or exceptions to this. Believe me, when this happened in the past I tried everything. Nothing ever worked. Sometimes it took weeks just to be rid of one of the entitled bastards before I could go home. It's not as if Hell was going to step in...I mean, it was technically work, a sure way of securing a soul quickly and efficiently, so they were utterly _thrilled_. Not to mention any information collected about the process of a bond like this has been completely wiped from existence. My side is thorough." 

"Oh dear..." The book slid from his hand and thudded on the carpet. He stared down at the pages as they flapped together, knitting his brows and resting his face in his hands. He was humiliated, realizing for the first time he had to step away from his usual comfort of meticulously studying all that was new to him. He could've blamed his drunken state at the time of the summoning, but he knew there was a little more at play. He'd been so desperate to get a rise out of his friend. He could only blame his own stupidity, too hasty to be cautious.

"Stop looking so gloomy. I get it, you were just trying to toy with me a bit." He circled around to face him, picking the book from the ground and quietly miracling it away to his flat. "I'm not angry, really."

"You should be, I certainly would understand. I must've caused you to remember many less-than-desirable memories from the past as well. This is all my fault. If I'd only-"

"Shut it." He flopped down next to him, throwing a blanket on the angel's lap. It was especially cool in the room tonight, so Aziraphale welcomed the offering, wrapping it around his shoulders. "There's no use worrying about it. What's done is done, and we will get this sorted out...eventually anyway."

"I can't help but worry. I've searched my memory, and haven't found a single 'intention' that could somehow help us out of this. What if the rules are different for angels?"

"Oh, Hell is strict with their regulations. There aren't exceptions even for celestial beings, since you can imagine what fun they'd have summoning us just to tear our limbs off like sadistic children mutilating insects if that were the case...not to mention it's technically _illegal_. If Heaven found out, you'd be in for a huge shitstorm. The whole point of summoning is to help humans sin, and then secure their souls for Hell. If an angel does it, especially one with hardly a dark thought in their pure little minds, we're getting nothing out of it- hence the criminality. No profit, no- wait-fuck-sorry, I'm just getting you more worked up." he sputtered, looking at Aziraphale's paling face. "Like I said, you didn't know. Your intentions weren't to cause harm. They were so terribly _nice_ that it's actually made everything difficult, which is so ironic I'm probably going to laugh about it later." He patted a hand over the angel's shoulder, as Aziraphale continued to tense and sniffle with every passing moment.

"I've done a terrible thing. What if I can't find a way? What if you're stuck like this forever?"

"Cheer up, won't you? Like I said, we'll get this sorted out." The angel's eyes started to swell with tears, a faint glistening as he blinked. "Hey, hey...I mean, you ought to enjoy this power while you can. You can technically ask me to do anything, and I'll do it without question. If you tell me to go the North Pole on foot just to scream at the top of my lungs to one very unlucky seal, I'll do it. You're never going to have a chance like this again."

"I'm not going to ask anything! I've already ruined your entire night...I just want to be alone." With a faint haze in his eyes, Crowley stood up from the sofa and moved a few feet away, shifting awkwardly and looking down at his body in irritation. 

"See? You're already doing it. Easy as angel food cake." He was still walking slowly backwards, and began to wince the farther he got. "Alright, maybe the example about the South Pole was a bit much-mh! I mean, it'd be perfectly doable, if only I could drag you right along with-fuck!-with me, but as it s-ssssssstands, I'm a little **_attached_** -" he hissed as he reached the opposite wall, thudding against the wall and holding his stomach in pain. "- **to you**."

"Crowley? Oh, oh I'm so sorry! Come back over here, please don't hurt yourself." He felt even worse at his mistake, not waiting for the beast to follow his request, rushing over and holding out his quivering hands. "What can I do? What can I possibly do to even begin to make things up to you?"

"Firstly, stop blaming yourself. That's not going to do either of us any good, and the entire room feels so much worse when you're upset. Something about angels I guess..." He flinched when Aziraphale touched his shoulder, looking over the demon with concern. "Second..." He lifted a hand to clasp over the angel's, pressing it flush against his neck. "This might sound a bit strange, but...it...helps when you're close. Even when I'm just a few feet away, my body gets all sore. When you touch me, s'like...the burning just goes away in an instant. Does that make sense?"

"Oh, ah, I see. This is because of the bond?" He stared dumbly at the place where their skin met, still shivering from his body's response to tears. There really was something different about the sensation of touch, and not in the usual sense that he always savored in the rare instances he was brave enough to brush their arms together or pat his back. It was warming and yet cooling at the same time, and he had the oddest awareness of bone and tendon, where the veins pumped blood right under Crowley's skin. It tingled, felt very warm. He looked at his plush fingers and wondered how it might feel against such a slender throat, watching muscles work under his palm when the demon swallowed, every angle of Crowley's jaw sharp and stiff.

It felt good. Much _too_ good, in fact, not unlike when they'd switched bodies, though somehow...closer. As if they were stuck on that apex of shared senses, right before inhabiting the other's form. It was too much for Aziraphale to comprehend all in an instant, like he'd accidentally stumbled upon something secret and private, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

The demon's fingers hovered in the air for a moment after they parted, like he wasn't sure what to do with them.

"Yes. We're _connected_ , Aziraphale. This is different from before, different from anything else you've ever experienced. With a human the experiences would never be so intense, but considering the circumstances..."

"I know, I know. Silly old angel, going and toying with dangerous rituals, hardly considering the consequences..."

"No, what I mean is that I can't even begin to tell you what to expect. I've have no experiences like this, and even now everything feels all-" He realized he had started extending a finger out in front of himself, reaching to graze over the angel's shoulder, and swiftly drew it back in. " _New_. So...there might be a few things that come as a surprise. To both of us."

"Are you implying I've caused even more harm than I thought?"

"No, no, just...ugh..." he groaned, looping his arm around Aziraphale's back to walk them back to the sofa. They'd shared a few brief touches since the Armageddon that wasn't, but in just the last few minutes they'd done so more than he could remember over the past five months, still worried about getting too close for fear of exposing their friendship to their respective sides. He had to stifle a happy sigh, enjoying the feeling of warmth from the demon's palm on the small of his back before it was taken away. "We'll figure it all out soon, but for now let's get some breakfast."

Aziraphale hadn't even noticed the sun had come up already, and simply nodded with a small smile.

\---

Crowley's foot was tapping under the table, chin resting in his palm as he waited endlessly for Aziraphale to finish what he thought was a _very_ small portion of food for the amount of time they'd been sitting there in the cafe. He'd been glancing around all the while, somehow more aware of his surroundings than usual. How many people there were. How many had gotten a little too close for his comfort. The place felt claustrophobic.

"You doing alright?" the angel spoke, wiping his mouth of a trickle of egg yolk. "You've hardly spoken all morning. Do you want a refill on coffee? It must be cold by now...you haven't touched that either." Crowley bristled, looking down at the cup which now had a dead gnat on the surface of the liquid. He grimaced, pushing it farther away. 

"Not hungry, and this place has shite coffee." He'd complained every step of the way here, trying to convince Aziraphale that eating at the bookstore would suffice, or even his own flat. Or the Bentley. _Anywhere_ but here. Miracles just couldn't produce the same homemade taste as Holly's, that the dear elderly waitress who always complimented his outfits and made the best cocoa he'd ever tasted, the angel had said. Well, _whined_ was more of an appropriate way to put it, puffing up his lips in an unbearably angelic pout. 

"Really?" he looked down at his own cup curiously, adding in another sugar packet for good measure. "I thought it was just splendid."

"In any case I'm not interested." he sighed, leaning backwards and rubbing his face. "This really wasn't a good idea. I can't relax, not like this."

"Oh will you cheer up a little? Food will help, get the cogs of your demonic brain turning faster!" he grinned, squishing into a slice of french toast with utter glee, a thick coating of powdered sugar having soaked up much of the maple syrup. Berry juice stained his lips, a tiny dot of whipped cream stick to his chin without his knowledge. Well, at least his mood had improved over the course of the hour. "Really, this is marvelous."

"You say that about everything you eat, angel."

"I do _not_. You remember-" he was cut off as Crowley started making a strange, low wheezing noise beneath his breath, which grew louder as a waitress passed the table with a tray full of dishes. He realized soon enough it was his best attempt to suppress a _hiss_ , though he tried to play it off as a cough, and he looked over at the beast questioningly. "Dear, what's going on with you?"

"I want to leave." he spoke through his palm, coughing a few more times. He adjusted his glasses, releasing his grip from the rim of the table. There was a small hole from where he'd accidentally tore it in his reaction. "This place is too dangerous while we're like this. Too noisy, too crowded. It's fucking up my senses, which were already fucked up from the bond to begin with."

"That's fine, we can go in a moment, but I'd like an answer to my question. We've got to communicate with each other, or we'll never get things back to normal. How are you doing?"

"She was too close. S'like she just walked up out of nowhere and _kept walking closer_ and I just couldn't help it, alright?"

"Well she wasn't carrying a knife or the like..." he whispered, glancing around and taking a sip from his cup self-consciously. "Nobody at this cafe is out to get us, I can assure you. I know we've both been on edge since...since you know, but-" Crowley lurched forward in his seat, grabbing the angel's arm when a... _toddler_ ran by. They were carrying a very sticky plate in one hand, face plastered in strawberry jam. Aziraphale would've given him a long look of disappointment if the touch hadn't surprised him so much, pulse quickening.

A few humans glanced over for a moment in confusion, but apparently thought he'd swatted a fly, soon going back to their normal conversations.

"Crowley _, honestly_. I don't believe children are on our list of potential dangers to watch out for, don't you think?" He looked down at his elbow, watching the demon slowly release it from a tight hold. The fabric was dented in the shape of a hand for a moment before the fibers fell back into their usual patterns. Crowley's face was scrunched up like he wanted to yell, avoiding making eye contact.

Aziraphale knew it wasn't the demon's fault at all, cursing his own empathy, trying to combat more tears at the thought of being responsible for manipulating his instincts to react with panic to things so harmless. All he'd wanted was to do was calm their minds for a while, and the beast was looking worse than before. "Ah, maybe you were right. This isn't really time to be enjoying the simple pleasures in life. We should be serious, focus on the matter at hand."

"M'sorry. Couldn't help it." he mumbled, standing up rigidly and watching Aziraphale follow his lead. "S'like a lightning bolt went through me. It's because of the-"

"Yes yes, I know, the...the _curse_." he spoke coldly. "Just another reminder that I've gone and ruined things, isn't it?"

Crowley gave him a look, one he couldn't understand in his huffy state, but was practically dragged out the door so they could make a swift escape to the car, leaving a particularly fat slice of bacon laying in a puddle of syrup.


	3. Constriction

"It's getting worse." Crowley spoke quietly, standing in the shadows of a column, resting his shoulder against it rigidly. As soon as they'd pulled up on the curb of the bookstore, he'd tugged Aziraphale inside and quickly locked the door behind them, lowering the shades of the windows and letting out a long, relieved sigh.

"What is? Are you feeling ill?" the angel responded, trying to calm his nerves after an especially swift drive. He worried they'd crash, but thankfully the demon had more precision that usual. He wasn't honestly sure a single thing could escape his notice in such an alert state. 

"You could say that, yeah. Come on, angel." he slid down to the floor and held his arms around his knees, staring forward blankly. "Tell me you feel something too. Something's changing."

"I could give you a more clear answer if you'd be direct with me. All this vagueness really isn't getting us anywhere." He felt the mood of the room shifting, growing more tense. He tried to find something to do with his hands other than wring them together. "All you've been doing is telling me 'I don't know' when I ask simple questions!" He regretted his words as he spoke, trying to reel back his statement immediately after. "Ah, I apologize. I didn't mean...oh, I just feel helpless. I've always been able to figure out all my problems with a little reading, and seeing as there isn't a single shred of information about our situation..."

"I know, I get it."

"...What if Heaven finds out? Or Hell for that matter? Will they-no, so soon after-I don't want to think about it."

"It's not possible. Nobody aside from us is aware of the bond. There isn't any way for them to sense it, even my own side. Like I've always told you, Hell thinks of everything. Well, probably not this precisely, but let's just say they don't want Heaven snooping on our business. Wanted to make it hard to detect."

"Wouldn't it be a little hard to hide the creature they've bound themselves to if they have to be in such close proximity all the time?"

"It's hardly done anymore, and back then people rarely left their houses. Or mansions. Or castles...you get the picture. In any case they had ways of hiding their sinful deeds. You wouldn't go traipsing around town if you'd just summoned something would y- oh...I guess you would." Aziraphale glanced a frown in his direction, muttering to himself.

"Fine, fine...I won't be dining anywhere till this is over."

"Probably be better not to leave the shop at all. If anyone did decide to pay us a visit, I'd much prefer being somewhere familiar."

"Crowley, can you look at me for a moment?" he questioned, taking a few steps across the foyer to see him better. "You look sick, and I mean that. You look... _tired_. Physically tired. How is this even possible?" He pointed at his eyes, seeing large, dark bags forming around the edges. His whole face looked rather pale and sunken, mimicking a human's response to exhaustion. 

"I feel like utter shite, yeah." He was swaying a bit, leaning closer against the pillar for stability. "Like the time I snuck into a Tavern and guzzled down half a barrel of mead." he tried to smirk, but it looked as though half his face was drooping. "What? Nobody else was going to. Couldn't let it go to waste."

"This is because of the curse, isn't it? Oh dear, how can I help?"

"I guess I can...try sleeping? After all, I was woken up from a pretty nice dream when all this started. M'not sure if it'll do anything but it's worth a try." 

\---

Aziraphale realized this would be the first time they'd share a night together, aside from the time his store had burnt down, but on that occasion they were both too tired to comprehend much except exhaustion and latent anxiety. Now, he was trying to hide the excitement that was bubbling up in his chest. This would, after all, be his first _sleepover._ In his own flat anyway. He had a sort of silly thrill at the notion, as if he was a just child trying to contain the joy of doing something new with their best friend.

Now wasn't the time to be enjoying himself, he remembered with a grimace.

"Is there anything I can do to make things more comfortable? Would you like some tea? Perhaps something to eat?" He was talking from behind a wall in a closet, searching for a pair of old boxy pajamas he hadn't any use for till now. They looked awfully boring and somewhat embarrassing, but what of it! He was going to make the most out of the situation. Looking down at a pair of fuzzy slippers, he also considered a nightcap to finish the outfit with a nifty flare, though finally felt a little self-conscious as he remembered Crowley's presence. 

"I don't think I'd be able to keep anything down, least not right now. My stomach's still in knots...s'like every current of energy in my body is being neatly tied to yours as time goes by, re-wiring itself to suit you better. If that even makes any sense." The store was dim now, flicking a finger to turn off every light as they passed. 

"Oh...not even something sweet?" He sipped at a cup of lukewarm chamomile the demon had prepared earlier, having stirred a big dollop of honey in just a moment ago. The appley smell soothed his nerves a bit more, warmth radiating into his palm. He was constantly reminding himself that this would all pass soon enough and there would be no bad blood between them. Well he certainly hoped not. 

"Nothing at all, really." They padded up the stairway, heading towards the tiny flat Aziraphale had kept mostly for storage or the occasional guestroom in very rare cases. The angel could feel Crowley watching him as they ascended, walking nearly in sync; that was something that begun to play with his nerves, how tense and tight the demon had become ever since he appeared in the store. He lacked his usual, unceremonious demeanor, and even the obscene sway of his hips was replaced by a fixed stride.

"I apologize, I wasn't exactly expecting company. My room has seen better days..." He snapped his fingers and tidied the piles of books, whisking them neatly against walls so they wouldn't trip anyone. "You go on to bed. I'll stay up reading for a while, alright?" he spoke as he walked over to a little seat against the wall, angling the light of a tall lamp to shine towards him. "I haven't slept there once, actually. Might have to miracle away some dust."

"...I should apologize, I guess I haven't explained this near well enough." he sighed, rubbing his face and standing awkwardly by the door. "I didn't know if it was still applicable in your case...look, I how do I say this...I can't sleep until you do, alright? My body and mind are not physically capable of it otherwise. Everything's different now, and I've never...it's never been like this before." Aziraphale began to worry he'd been too forward as he saw how sheepish Crowley looked, inviting the demon in his musty old room like this. He considered that maybe they should've just stayed downstairs. Slept on chairs. They'd done it before after one too many drinks. He was still trying to determine what was normal for friends, now that he was allowed to call him that.

"Oh dear, I don't want you to worry any more than you already have. Alright, I'll give it my best go. Humans sleep nearly every night, I'm sure I can manage that much."

He pulled the duvet over and crawled on a somewhat comfortable mattress, the springs squeaking from the disturbance, ruffling old and somewhat cold quilts under his weight. "I can make one of your own. It'll just take a bit of situating to fit them both in here, though I suppose I could lengthen the room itself as well if need be."

"That won't be necessary. I won't be able to get a wink of sleep unless I'm near you."

"I see." He didn't really, he didn't understand anything about anything right now, and he thought better to ask as he heard the strain of fatigue in the demon's voice. The whole ordeal must've taken a lot out of him, being ripped from one place in reality to the next by no power of his own.

Pulling the bedspread over his shoulders, he pulled up a small book to read a few chapters, relax his mind. "Go on and try to sleep, dear. I'll...hopefully be able to follow, if my brain will allow it."

Crowley silently took off his blazer and slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed, facing the opposite direction. The angel could feel his tension, the room losing its peaceful hum in the presence of so much apprehension. It was yet another reminder that he'd put his nose where it shouldn't have been. He felt especially silly putting on such a ridiculous pair of pajamas now, looking down at himself and quietly miracling his regular clothes back on. This wasn't just a fun little sleepover. Crowley didn't want to be here. He had no choice.

At least the bed soon warmed up quite nicely with the extra body heat, the hushed exhales slowing down to his right. He glanced over every few minutes, watching Crowley's dark outline shift beneath the blankets. His scent was prominent, not unlike one of the heady incenses he'd wander through in the cathedrals of old. If it wasn't for his own guilt about the occurrences of the day, he'd find comfort just knowing that Crowley was there beside him. In his own home, his own space, right next to him.

Sighing, he swept through the pages of Shakespeare, Austen, and finally Hemingway, hoping to find a line or two that could bring solace in its familiarity. All he was really doing was staring at words on pages, hardly absorbing a thing.

\---

Aziraphale's eyes fluttered open, having spent the last few hours in a light and fitful sleep. He knew his system was still filled with worry and shame, and that none of Crowley's reassurances yesterday could even begin to lift a majority of it. 

Something he noticed within the next few seconds was that the darkness in front of his face was cast away by a dim glow, and that there were hands around his waist holding him tightly. His initial thought was that Crowley grabbed onto him during his sleep, knowing from watching him nap in the past how much he tended to toss and turn. What struck him as strange was how unyielding the hold was, incredibly tense even in what he assumed must be a relaxed state. He could hardly feel the demon breathing behind him, even though his chest was pressed up against the angel's back so close he could feel a few droplets of sweat roll down onto his own skin.

That was also odd. It wasn't warm in the room at all. It was freezing. 

The lights that reflected on the bedding and walls shifted as...oh, Crowley had _blinked_. That's what it was. He already knew his irises were capable of bioluminescence, or the demonic equivalent anyway, but had never witnessed it in darkness before. "Are you...awake?" he whispered into the air, shifting around as best he could, but their bodies were so tightly pressed together he couldn't seem to budge. He tried again, a bit harder this time. "Crowley? I can't sleep...I'm going to do some reading. Can you let me go?"

Nothing. Nothing but a grip that was hot to his skin, the beast behind him burning like he had a terrible fever even through his shirt. He could hear each of Crowley's breaths as short, throaty puffs by his ear, a quiet snarl mixing in every few seconds. He assumed it was a sort of snore, that somehow he was sleeping even with his eyes open. There was much to learn about the state of his friend.

"I promise I'll be quiet, use a dim light. You can keep sleeping." There was still no response, though he was sure Crowley was awake at this point, the lights illuminating the walls flickering in and out of perspective as the demon began to shift. He knew Crowley was a light sleeper, so his instincts were telling him to check on him. He expected at least a grunt or a sigh, something to communicate he'd heard the comments. "Crowley? Is something wrong, dear boy?" 

All at once he felt heat on the area of flesh right below his ear, breaths huffing out over it and leaving a damp cast of moisture. His skin prickled, the tiniest of hairs standing on end, his body reacting with small shocks and currents of shivers.

Lips were sliding downwards till they met the side of his throat. He heard panting now, quick draws of air that were becoming harder and louder, sticky condensation forming on the softest folds of his neck. His heart started to thump fast, feeling him moving in closer. Legs curled over and around his own, the demon's rib cage pressing hard on his back. They'd _never_ been this close before.

Gulping hard, he stayed frozen in place while the sensation continued to grow stronger and wider, Crowley's mouth evidently gaping open and hovering just above the tender skin. He didn't know what to do, holding in a whimper of surprise, his hands sweating under the blanket and gripping at the sheets, which were twisted around his body almost as tightly. 

A long, low growl began rumbling against his back, echoing in the small room and making him flinch. He worried that maybe the demon was simply irritated about being woken from sleep again, that he was a little on edge due to the whole ordeal and just wanted to rest and regain his bearings. 

All his thoughts ceased when he felt a sharp point touch down on his throat, tiny, a hot droplet of saliva trickling down to follow. It was the razor-like point of a fang, he realized as it started sinking down and pulling the flesh taut. The feeling of pressure was strange, being used to such gentle treatment, even from his rival; Crowley had never done such a thing, not even as a joke.

He still didn't know how to react, and started to quiver when the point slowly pierced the skin, the wound shallow but sore. Was this some kind of reprimand? Was the demon actually angry with him after all?

Heat flared throughout his body, a tingle of energy from where they were connected making his shoulder twitch. The air around them was _buzzing_ , making a low hum, but he couldn't tell if it was the room itself or simply the demon's constant growls. He was much more aware of how ice-cold the world surrounding the bed was; he felt like there were embers flaring to life deep in his stomach, and if he breathed too quickly sparks might come out of his mouth.

A hundred thoughts flew through Aziraphale's mind, gasping louder than he meant to, grabbing Crowley's hand at his stomach and tugging at it.

There was a sudden intake of air behind him, like one might after falling asleep too quickly and jolting back awake all at once. Crowley bolted backwards, unfortunately sending Aziraphale toppling down on the floor as the blanket was ripped out from under him in the swift movement.

"Fucking Satan- _angel!"_ he shouted, sprinting over from the other side of the bed and kneeling down in front of Aziraphale. "Are you okay? What did I do to you?"

"I don't really know...Crowley, are you that angry with me? I promise I didn't mean for any of this to happen, and I'll apologize as many times as it takes for you to understand it."

"Of course I'm not mad!" He was speaking in a harsh whisper, sliding a finger over his lip to look at the small trickle of blood in the dim light coming from the hallway. His eyes weren't nearly as bright now, having taken on their usual amber hue rather than the bright gold from a moment before. He was panting like he'd just run a marathon, trembling harder than Aziraphale, bending lower to offer his hand. "I'm sorry, something must've happened while I was sleeping...well, I wasn't even sleeping really, I just...blanked out. I promise I didn't mean to."

Aziraphale's eyes peered softly up at him, filled with remorse. Whatever was wrong, he knew it was his own fault. Since the very first idea that'd crawled into his mind a few days ago, it'd all been because of him. "It's alright, dear, let's just...let's just go downstairs and breathe a little, hm? I don't think I can sleep anymore tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done w/ my Summer final (Never wanna hear about enzyme pathways ever again 😭😭😭) and got a few weeks before my Fall semester starts( which is gonna kick my ass), so gonna use my break to do as much rough drafting as I can so it'll be easier once school starts, but still, expect updates to take a while from now on. Chem is going to break my brain into little sad bits... (￣﹏￣；)
> 
> In any case, have a good weekend everybody! Sending love to those who want some ❤❤❤
> 
> (Btw I just realized that the way this chapter ended it would appear that Crowley's turning into a vampire-demon or some shit, just want to make it clear that that is NOT what's going on, aight. It's confusing rn but it'll make sense later...I hope 😂)


	4. How to Perfectly Tie a Bow Tie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo the chapters have titles now. How fancy~ (says the author like 2/4 through the goddamned fic 😫) (This is mainly because I keep forgetting which chapter is which, being the dumbass I am)

The angel sat timidly stirring his teacup, one hand on his neck just rubbing over it curiously. He'd most likely overreacted to such a simple wound; it was hardly visible, merely a speck that was ever so slightly swollen and pink. Biting in one's sleep wasn't necessarily all that uncommon, at least not for humans. There were many cases of people sleep-walking, so something like this couldn't be all that far-off.

Crowley had offered to miracle it away of course, but Aziraphale stubbornly kept telling him it'd disappear by morning, no need to waste power for such a small thing. All the same, the demon was pacing around at near-lightning speed, muttering under his breath.

"I told you I'm perfectly alright. There's no need to get all worked up about a tiny thing like this."

"Yes, angel, there fucking is! I wasn't sleeping when it happened, I was in a different...state of mind? Something like it. S'like when you've been jacked up by drugs, alcohol and have a fever all at the same time. Well, I guess the example would be more understandable if any of those things really effected either of us, but my point is that I _lost it_ for a while. I didn't respond even after you talked to me. I _hurt_ you. It's unacceptable."

"It's only a mild slip-up. You won't do it again."

"How do you _know_ that, Aziraphale?" he groaned, sinking his back against a bookcase. "I know it's some kind of side-effect of the bond, I fucking know it. The thing is, I have no idea what to expect because an angel has never successfully bound themselves to a demon before. You have an _essence_ , not a soul. Not a little blob of energy that can be swallowed up or thrown straight to Hell after giving them what they want- and no, I've never swallowed a soul, if that makes you feel better." He didn't feel better.

"I should hope not, goodness... I just don't understand exactly what difference that makes, however. If I have an essence and you do as well, how was I even able to bind myself to you? Or, well, the other way around, I should say."

"There isn't a shred of information you'll find in any book that can tell you. I know once a demon was able to summon an angel, but that ended in a great big disaster of holy fire burning down everything in sight, as well as Heaven's most litigious coming straight for our arses. There wasn't any kind of bond, not like this."

"Do you think the fact that we traded bodies before has anything to do with it?"

"Couldn't say, might've fucked things up royally for all I know. All I can say for sure is that...well, it'd probably be good for you to...keep yourself wary. I might not be all I seem right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Sleeping is out of the question until we get ourselves separated. I'm thinking maybe when I'm in a less alert mental state, some latent instincts might come to the surface. Less savory ones."

"I didn't know biting was one of your primary functions."

"It isn't technically...look, there have been other cases where humans summoned demons without knowing exactly what wish they wanted fulfilled. Or they just didn't want to cooperate, thought it'd be fun to have a Hellish being at their disposal, do their bidding. The goal of a summoning is either to secure a soul for Hell or destroy it. The longer it takes to fulfill one of these pacts, the more instincts rise to the surface in order to complete the mission. S'...also a sort of fail-safe."

"Oh...so you're saying-"

"Angel, I have no _idea_ what I'm saying, because there's no soul to secure or destroy in this case. There's just...well, _you_ , and I haven't the foggiest about how that changes things. All I know is last night I did something I never would've if I was in my right mind and you need to be careful." Aziraphale shook his head, gulping down the last drop of his tea and ushered Crowley to sit beside him. 

" _Fine_." Aziraphale had to admit, he was feeling a little more defensive than usual. He doubted that was because of any bond. He was particularly aware of his own heartbeat, racketing away in his ears, but that wasn't necessary all that unusual. Sometimes it just happened. It didn't help that it was growing in speed as the demon sat down next to him. How his teeth were bared in anger, and the angel immediately remembered how the sharp point felt as it tried to bury itself in his neck like a parasite. "I feel like I'm stuck, then. I can't leave, nor do I have the proper books to read, to help us. What in Her name am I supposed to do? Can you tell me that much?" he spat, wishing he could bite off his own tongue as he spoke. What in Heaven's name had gotten into him? 

"I'd say we should just go back to square one. You need to find out what your wish was. Start...I don't know, telling me to do things for you. Something will have to be the ticket eventually."

"What is a good point...Here, why don't you tie my bow?" He quickly corrected, remembering the rule of giving proper commands. "Oh, sorry. Tie my bow. Please." Crowley watched while he undid his bow tie, slipping it off and holding it in an outstretched hand. "Maybe all I wanted was a little assistance doing dreary tasks. Sometimes I have that urge, especially when I'm a little tipsy."

"Really..." he groaned, though shifted over without a moment of hesitation. "If you'd only wanted things like this, you wouldn't have to summon me, you know."

Aziraphale watched the piece slip from his hand and into the other's, closing his eyes expectantly. "You told me to make the most of things." he said haughtily, tilting his chin up. The demon placed one palm on the back of his neck to hold him steady, the other looping the cloth around. "I'd say this is much better than say, _the South Pole_."

"Fair enough." He wrapped it around and pulled it into a sort of knot, much too tight for comfort. "Um...how do I say this..."

"You don't know how to tie one of these, do you?"

"I'm out of practice, alright? Usually just use miracles...I assumed you did as well."

"Oh, that would be _such_ a waste." he tutted, blinking his eyes open. Crowley's stare slid up from the angel's collarbone, meeting his own gaze with a flinch. His hands were still cupping softly on the skin of his throat, lowering them to let Aziraphale take up the reins. "Consider this a learning experience. Everyone should know how to do this, miracle or not."

"Alright, then please enlighten me, oh _fearsome angel_." 

"Right. Well, you begin by-" He undid the tie once more and held out both sides, presenting them on either side of his head. "You first lay the pieces on either side of your neck, one side slightly longer than the other."

He pulled up his collar till it sat upright around his neck, waiting expectantly for Crowley to follow the instructions. "Cross the longer end over the short one, then bring it under and through, like this." Taking hold of the demon's hands, he cupped his thumbs and pushed them through the hole created by the tie pieces. " _Then_ you pull. Snug but not too tight, or else it'll become uncomfortable." 

He could see Crowley's throat bob in a swallow when they pulled it in unison, no doubt concentrated on not seeming like too much of an idiot. He found it charming how much he was trying. "Fold the shorter end and bring it up like this."

He held it up on the center of his neck, keeping it secure with his index finger. "Now you finish it off by pulling the long end over, while I hold this section together. There's going to be a hole that you push your end through, and then we sort of just...tinker with it a little. It doesn't have to be perfect, it'll still look nice."

Waiting while Crowley's hands tried to follow his commands, he sighed and snickered while he felt the demon lose his grip and re-start the step. His hands were wobbling, evidently clueless about this sort of thing. Aziraphale realized every single tie he'd ever seen the beast wear must've been created through a miracle, and chuckled a little, his throat vibrating under the fingers that worked around it. "You've almost got it, now I-"

Crowley froze, eyes stuck on something. "I pull down my...collar...Crowley?"

"This. This is where I bit you last night." Aziraphale's blood ran cold, hearing both the pain in his voice and something he couldn't identify. 

"Oh-" He tugged his collar down and shrunk backwards, adjusting his shirt to hide the mark. "Think nothing of it, dear boy. It's nothing but a tiny prick, really."

He knew Crowley wasn't heeding his reassurances, noticing increasingly dark circles under his worried eyes. He looked even more exhausted than last night. "I think perhaps this bond is still draining you of energy. We...could _try_ sleeping again. Maybe laying a few feet away from each other this time? Maybe...this condition you're in makes you go into a very light sleep, so you're prone to sleep walking."

"Sleep _biting_ you mean."

"Something like that."

"Absolutely not. We are _not_ doing that again."

"It's an option, anyway. If you're that concerned about it, I do have some tape in my drawer you could use. Over your mouth...?"

"You want me to _muzzle_ myself."

"I didn't say _that_ , dear, just that, well, if you want to try-"

" **No**."

"Fine, fine!" he huffed, trying to walk away and submerge himself in his bookshelves, remembering with a sigh of their situation when the demon yelped in pain. "Oh for Heaven's...come over here, please." Crowley all but sprinted back to his side, shoving his hands in his pockets with a horrid glare. 

\---

A day had passed, and Crowley was looking progressively worse. The signs of fatigue were evident; there were terrible bags under his eyes, he was slouching-well, more so than was usual- and he had been staring blankly whenever the angel looked at him. He was also much more irritable, lashing out whenever they had the mildest disagreement. It wasn't like him at all, and Aziraphale couldn't help but feel terrible for him.

"You need sleep, dear." he spoke softly, peering down into a glass of wine he hadn't touched for an hour. "I don't know what this bond's done to you, but you're more physically vulnerable like this. I'm worried about what'll happen if you don't try to get at least a few hours."

"Yes, so you've said. Three times today." He mumbled, curled up on the sofa. He'd been shaking nonstop. It might've been because it'd been feeling a lot colder as the hours dragged on, but he was doing alright himself. He made a note to check the air conditioning, smoothing a blanket over Crowley's shoulders. Poor thing, his eyes were all bloodshot.

"And I mean it. You can't keep pushing yourself to stay awake if sleep is going to help."

"What kind of a demon needs _sleep?!_ " he snapped, tossing his head to the side. "What kind of pitiful bastard needs to waste that much time-"

" _You_ do, I should think. Look, can't you just try? Try falling asleep while I stay up, and I'll make sure nothing happens."

"That's what I've been doing all morning, but it just won't work. It's honestly kind of hilarious. I've slept decades, centuries at a time before and now I can't even get a few _minutes_." 

"Give it more time, it might just be stress built up from the last time...I remember it took me a long while to fall asleep myself. I read for a few hours and that definitely helped me nod off."

"I've tried that too, extensively. You saw me do it, you've read aloud to me too, nothing helps. I can't even drink any of your fucking leaf soup!" 

"You mean chamomile, and it's made with flowers. There are other things we could try; valerian, oatstraw...I have a little cabinet in the back with some dried herbs and the like."

"Look, if getting blackout drunk won't work, I don't know what will."

"You haven't had anything to drink at all."

"That's the point. I can't get anything down. It feels like there are briers in my stomach. Curling around and splintering my entrails."

"Oh dear..." the image made him wince, flipping through a book with his spectacles, scanning every line thoroughly. 

"...Hey, what've I told you? Stop trying to find anything about this. S'a waste of time." There was a definite bite in his tone, sitting upright and glaring over at him. "You should...I don't know...go make a cake or something. Waffles, sushi, I don't give a shite."

"Would you eat it? If it's something you really love?" Then again he had no idea if Crowley really loved any food like he did. He was indifferent to much but alcohol and coffee.

"No, but it'll get you out those pages for once. You can give me tasks, help you cook. Without that I'm sitting here being a useless bastard."

"Right, I've forgotten about that." He hadn't, but would like to pretend he had. He felt horrible making the demon do his bidding, knowing it wasn't really his own free will. 

"Maybe when you summoned me you were thinking of food. Seems like something that'd be going through your head." he spoke, actually chuckling a lot, though the amusement soon went away when he saw the angel turn another page. "Just for a while? Come on."

"There has to be something in one of these...anything that can help us. Maybe one of the sigils I used could...no, the chalk was ruined in the...oh bother."

" _ **Angel**_." he shifted over and swatted the book out of Aziraphale's hand, making it land on the floor with a thump. 

"Crowley, that- that was uncalled for." he grumbled, bending down to pick it up again. The demon reached for his hand and grabbed it, glaring into his eyes when he looked back at him. 

"Baking. Just for a little while. _Please?"_

Aziraphale could see he'd been outmatched, setting the book down on a nearby table. "Oh my, since when did you use _manners?_ It suits you." he spoke, tipping up his chin with a huff. Well, he had been reading for a long while...he could use a break. "Ah...I suppose. Just a little. I haven't stepped foot in my kitchenette for quite some time. You sure you're up to it?"

"If it's only some light stuff, yeah. Who knows, maybe by the time we're done I'll fall fast asleep on the floor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a great weekend! Or ya know, whatever day it is while you're reading this, I hope it's full of smiles :3 Remember to drink water my dudes


	5. Just the Two of Us

"Really? An _apron?"_ Crowley groaned, staring stiffly at the garment that was handed over by the angel, who wouldn't stop smiling.

"Well of course! You don't want to get flour all over those dark clothes, do you? Imagine how much it'd stand out." Cheeky bastard, practically shoving the thing against him while he made a victorious sound in his chest. The apron contrasted with the angel's own, which was white, ruffled, ridiculously _stylish_ , just as expected of him. He had several, and this was the easiest to stain, so he must've been preparing to let Crowley do all the work.

"...I could just miracle it away?" he said with an eyebrow raise, crossing his arms. Aziraphale smirked back at him, patting his chest like there was something invisible attached there.

"Aren't you supposedly preserving your powers for _my_ benefit?" came his smug reply, watching the demon's face droop in defeat. "I specifically remember you saying something along those lines...how I was supposed to make the most of our bond while I could..."

"Ack, fine, fair enough." he grumbled, picking the apron up with a scowl and throwing it on in a few swift tugs. It mostly blended in with the rest of his dark clothes, but he despised looking like a baker. It just rubbed him the wrong way, maybe because of all those times Aziraphale had had him sit though countless cooking shows and he'd learned to detest the very sight of chefs. Much too passionate about molecules they fused together, spending hours just to make something they'd consume in minutes. "You really think I'm all that messy of a cook?"

"Well I'm going to be doing most of the work, seeing as you're so spent, but I suppose you can help me measure things out." As if he wasn't going to take full advantage of the situation, the demon thought in amusement. Aziraphale was so easy to read. "Oh dear, where did I put the cookbook..."

"Come on, at least put me to work on something better than _that_. I'm pretty sure my body can handle a little more than sticking spoons into batter. I'm a little weak right now, but I'm still a _demon_."

"And how stubborn a beast you are at that...very well, go find a nice recipe. Anything you think would be best. I'll start miracling all the ingredients I can think of, anyway."

Hm...flour. Flour was a good starting place, regardless of the recipe in question. He snapped his fingers, picturing the product in his head like he normally would. It should've appeared on the counter, but instead there was only stillness.

He blinked, looking over the smooth tiles that didn't even gleam with a hint of holy energy. He did it again, focusing harder this time. Again, nothing at all. 

"Um...Crowley? I think we have a slight problem." The demon practically flew to his side, flinging a cookbook lopsided on the counter, as if the angel had screamed about being stabbed. "I just tried to create some flour and-" He tried again. Nothing. "I think something's wrong with my powers!" he gasped, wondering if Heaven had somehow found out about the bond and took away his privileges as punishment. "Crowley, oh no, oh dear, what's happening?!" He forced in a stomachful of air and tried to relax, once again giving a futile attempt.

"The shite...? Let me try." He snapped his fingers just as Aziraphale had, only this time there was a perfectly sizable bag of flour that appeared on the stove in front of them, all but glittering. They looked at each other with an equal expression of confusion. "That's strange."

"Strange doesn't even begin to summarize this...come to think of it, I don't believe I've even tried using my powers since this all began. Could the bond have somehow suppressed them?

"Very real possibility. A bond is like a siphon of energy, channeling it all to an apex between the two beings in question. That's why I've been feeling all fucked in the head. Takes time getting used to."

"However, you said that all your power was being saved for protecting the...er, host, myself. Yet, you seem so exhausted."

"Couldn't say, cause y'know, same thing as before."

"Yes, yes, 'it's never been quite like this', I _know_." he said with spite, wishing he had powers right now if only he could've used it to knock an invisible pan against his own face for the sheer idiocy of his rudeness. "All the more reason to figure out how to break it soon. I didn't realize we really were in legitimate danger. If Heaven or Hell send anyone...oh dear, what're we going to do if-" A small whimper bubbled up his throat and he tried to swallow his anxiety down, feeling ashamed of being so affected. 

"I promise I won't let anything happen to you, okay?" he whispered, a little closer to the angel's ear than he must've realized, and Aziraphale sprang back, straightening his vest. He was still trying to get used to such proximity. It was a little much for his nerves. Well, more than a little.

"Of course. Ah...the recipe?" he finally said, swallowing as he noticed he was standing beneath the demon's shadow, which seemed to be hovering over him due to the light that was hitting his back directly.

"...Oh, yeah. Okay, you know that cake you made a few years back with loads of chocolate frosting and the nice creamy center?"

"Yes, it was one of my favorites! However...it is awfully rich. You'd have to create quite a bit of butter, and...is it really such a good idea to be using so many of your miracles right now? We could run to the store I suppose, but you didn't react so well to being in public last time."

"Please, I've barely used them all day. You really do underestimate me, you know that?" He grabbed the cookbook and skimmed through it, squinting his eyes thoughtfully. "Pff, easy. I could make this with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back."

"That doesn't seem like a safe way to be using an oven."

"Who says we're using the oven?" he smirked, flicking his fingers to create a tiny spark. It grew to a small flame, pooling through his fingertips in cascades of blue and red, so bright the room seemed to dim for a moment.

"No, no! We are not doing that!" he gasped, ruffled up and glaring as the demon laughed at his shocked voice. "My dear boy, my shop's already been burnt to the ground once. I don't need anymore safety risks, no matter how capable you think yourself."

Crowley's chuckle died in his throat, his face taking on a much colder expression.

That's right. He'd nearly forgotten about that day. 

"Oh, ah, sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned that." the angel trailed off, putting his focus back in the book. "Um, in any case, the oven will do. There's no need to speed things up."

\---

The rest of the evening was horribly quiet, Aziraphale constantly jumping when he forgot how close Crowley was, and oh, the demon looked terrible. There was a dark frown stuck to his face, the kind when he wanted to say something but was holding it in. They both were at this point, the angel trying to come up with a kind word that'd brighten the mood.

He knew it was still very much a raw wound. He'd seen Crowley's face when he still thought he was dead and gone, the tone of his voice. That was the first time he'd ever really acknowledged the fact that they were friends. Nobody would heal right away after such an experience, thinking they'd lost a friend, and he'd gone and brought it up again.

He'd tasked the demon with stirring the batter together, while he was preparing a frosting. The pan had been buttered and powdered with flower, and was already looking a little too small for his liking. 

"Hoo...this took longer than expected. I wonder how bakers do this every morning before opening their shops." he smiled, clamoring around to find the whisk. "All those breads, muffins, shortcakes...you'd think they'd just quit and throw it all in display boxes as nothing but goo."

"They use industrial ovens." he muttered, nearly motionless aside from a constant stir in a very dark looking batter. "They're big, cook a lot at once."

"Oh, right." he replied quietly, aware of the bite in the demon's tone. "I'd forgotten."

"Hey...angel, you look hungry." Well, that was unexpected, Aziraphale thought as he glanced over. "Why wait for all this?"

"I thought you'd said you were bored? That it'd give you something to do."

"I'll finish cooking it, sure, but I could make you something better. In fact, I could make five...ten. However many sweets you like. That sounds good, yeah?"

"Well...yes." he murmured, lowering his eyes as he felt a phantom stomach rumble at the thought of it. "I've already been spoiled with miracles, you know. I prefer doing things the human way, then enjoying the fruits of my labor."

"Oh come on, I see that gleam in your eye. You love to indulge. Let me indulge you." Aziraphale's face heated up a little, swallowing down tightness as he looked over. Crowley had stopped stirring completely and was now staring at him, just smiling.

Oh, poor Crowley. He must've felt guilty after thinking about the fire...wanting to do such nice things for him. If things had been...less fortunate, he might not have had the chance share a time like this together. The angel's heart swelled with sympathy. "If you want to, dear, but don't overdo it. You don't want to wear yourself out anymore than you already are."

He'd really spoken too late, because the demon was already flicking his thumb and will brilliant flashes and flickering spirals, dishes were appearing on the counter. At first there was a cake, just like the one he'd envisioned when he thought of a perfect chocolate cake. Big, fluffy, way too much icing. Shaved dark chocolate dusted all over, a drizzle of caramel just at the top. How on earth did he get it so precise? 

"Crowley, that looks just-"

There was another now, bigger, this one most likely strawberry. A thick, rich icing spread over the top, perfectly round berries all around in a circle. Now there were cupcakes to the left of it, with sprinkles he remembered eyeing on a menu at a restaurant he hadn't even dined at yet, and-oh, now there was macarons, and tiramisu, and all sorts of fruits he didn't recognize.

He looked left and right, trying to keep up. "Um, I believe that's enough...?" he said helplessly, watching the floor start to become crowded with even more sweets. "I can't possibly eat all this, it's going to go to waste!" he said a bit louder, watching the demon continuously snap his fingers like it was nothing. 

" _Stop_." he finally said, remembering the power of his words. Crowley did as instructed, though he bit his lip, looking irritated. "You're not...you're not thinking clearly, Crowley. This isn't like you."

"What? I thought you were hungry, I thought you wanted cake. Why not give you some options?"

"This is _much_ more than enough, and you know it." he mumbled, though his mouth was drooling as he looked over the spread. "I feel as though you're being passive aggressive. Care to explain what you're thinking?"

Crowley bristled, eyes getting wide. "It always has to be _something_ with you, doesn't it? That because I'm a demon I can't possibly just want to do nice things for my best friend. Don't you like sweet things? You always get so cheery when you bite into one. I thought I might be able to make you happy." Aziraphale bit down the pain those comments brought, trying to think of a response that wouldn't escalate the strangely tense atmosphere any further.

"Just having you here is enough." he said quietly, watching the anger fade from the demon's eyes like a waft of smoke. All of a sudden he looked a lot calmer, and the angel knew he was on the right track. "I enjoyed being able to do something as simple as baking with you, not because it was going to result in a dessert- in fact, I may enjoy food but that doesn't mean they're the only thing I like about having meals together. You know me, Crowley. I like your company." He hoped his attempts at reconciliation were working, and from the looks of Crowley's face it was going surprisingly well.

They stayed quiet for a while before the timer started beeping, taking only minutes due to whatever miracle Crowley had used to speed things up, and Aziraphale rushed to retrieve the original cake from the oven. "See? This is beautiful by itself, something we made together. I don't need all those others right now, especially since it'll help me savor this. Everything in good time." His words were like sticking a tack in a balloon, the demon seemingly deflating back to normal, though there was a smile curling the sides of his lips up. It looked more tender, not the spiteful kind from a moment ago.

"So you're really happy with just having me here?" he spoke, eagerly beginning to throw the ingredients for frosting together in a bowl. "Just the two of us?"

"Well of course. I can't think of anyone else who's company brings me such solace on difficult days, who listens to my ramblings with patience. We're just a bit tired so it's understandable that we'd argue...I haven't been careful enough with my tongue either." He sighed and looked down at the piles of sweets all around. "Ah...I suppose I might be able to find room for all of this in the fridge...?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy your last bit of fluff *evil laughter*


	6. Everything Will Be Just Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy have a nice lil 2am update *fingerguns* It is fuckin Friday my dudes!!
> 
> Aight so apparently it is not made clear in the show if Anathema is actually aware of the fact that Zira/Crowley are supernatural beings, soooo...in my universe she is! 🖋ヾ(￣▽￣)
> 
> I feel like she's too smart/inquisitive to assume they're normal humans after seeing their auras or lack thereof...she'd just take one look and be like "Oh......ok then. Odd, but not the weirdest thing I've seen."
> 
> On that note Madam Tracy and Shadwell are also aware, because I mean, Tracy did get possessed by Aziraphale soooo...Also I feel like Shadwell just wouldn't care all that much?? He'd be more interested in hunting witches tbh, plus they both have a normal amount of nipples in their current corporations so why bother??
> 
> Also just for convenience of the plot *cough*

Aziraphale walked over to unlock the front door and crack open the windows. Fresh air trickled in and washed away some of the staleness, and he breathed it in deeply.

"Angel, what are you doing?" Crowley hissed, glowering from the shadows of a bookshelf a few feet away.

"What? I'm getting ready for our guest." he spoke casual, dusting off his desk with a small cloth. "I've invited Anathema over for tea, I thought she could perhaps give me some more insight into our situation. It's worth a try... her family has a strong history with spiritual work, and then I was thinking maybe I could invite Madame Tracy tomorrow-"

"Have you lost your mind?! The last thing we need is a bunch of nosy bastards getting their hands on everything in here. It's not _safe_."

"Oh come on now, you said yourself that we should stay in the store for the time being, didn't you? Well, we're doing just that. I can invite others here, while staying in this more familiar area. It all works out, you see?" He hadn't given her many details, just that he needed a bit of help sorting out a matter relating to the occult. She seemed very interested from the tone of her voice, jumping at the chance to investigate.

"This is an absolutely horrendous idea. Anathema? _Tracy?!_ What the fuck could they tell you that...all your books don't have the right information, so what makes you think _they_ will?"

"Really, it's not such a big matter. Don't worry, I'll make sure you're safe. This is my sanctuary, after all."

"I'm not the one that needs protecting!"

"Hush now, she'll be here in a moment." The demon's ears pricked up when he heard a knock at the door across the foyer. "Oh, she's arrived sooner than I expected. Would you be a dear and please make us some tea?" Crowley glared even as he started walking towards the kitchenette, dragging the angel to his side. The door was unlocked so the woman stepped inside and waved as soon as she saw them. "Come right in! I'm so glad you could visit on such short notice."

"No problem!" she said a bit breathlessly, her cheeks flushed as if she'd been running. "I have to admit I was just a tad excited when I'd heard. It's been so boring lately. Newt's been busy with university that I haven't had anyone to speak to. Well, anyone that wasn't too melted by the Summer heat, should I say."

"Splendid. The tea will be ready in a moment if you'd like to take a seat in the study, my dear." He noticed that Crowley still had a firm hold on his sleeve, even as he was measuring out water for the kettle. "We can't be too careful. I'm sure you understand the urgency of the matter."

"Of course. I sensed something was different as soon as I came in." she spoke, eyes squinting through her glasses. 

"Yes, well, I know how experienced you are with these sorts of matters, but it might be a little...unorthodox. I'll explain everything in just a moment." he trailed off, feeling his wrist get tugged by a very testy demon. "I think my friend needs some help getting the measurements right. I'm teaching him the proper ways of preparing my new Oolong, you see." She nodded and strode across the room, leaving them in a very tense silence after the swish of her dress trailed out of hearing range. "Is something the matter?"

"Thisss is a _terrible_ idea." he hissed out through his teeth, the pot clanging as he set it on the stove and nearly set fire to his sleeve when he turned on the burner. "We don't want anyone else getting roped into our mess. Besides, she's stubborn, wants to see everything through to the end. You know she's going to want to know every detail. She'll probably try something to undo the bond and end up making things worse."

"Miss Anathema is a very capable and intelligent woman. She's my first choice, aside from books of course. Seeing as I can't find any information in my collections, she must know much more than anything I can find myself."

"So you've said."

"Don't give me that look, dear. You know we're running out of options. The sooner we get this all sorted out the sooner you can go back to your flat and have a nice long nap- in solitude."

"There's still loads more things we could try, haven't even scratched the surface. Maybe you were thinking about going to a very specific restaurant in Fiji, or going to the top of Mount Everest, or starting your own fucking cult that worships _books_. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're scared of having so many possibilities at your fingertips. Scared of the power I can give you."

"What? I-I just think there's an easier way than trying everything there is to do in this world. I have a very active mind, you've said so yourself. I could've been thinking of millions of little things all at once and any one of those could count as an intention."

"Come on, there has to be _something_ you've always wanted. Something festering in that angelic head of yours that you haven't let out yet. Ability, status, possessions...I could give you anything, do anything for you, and you'd just have to ask. You want archangels to fear you? I could make them kneel at your feet." His voice had more of a bite, teacups straining under the forceful grip of claws as he grabbed them and set them on a tray. His tone kept rising till Aziraphale feared Anathema would hear even in the other room. "You think I couldn't do it? Am I not enough? _**Do you doubt me** , **Aziraphale?"**_

"Crowley! That's enough." he huffed, jumping as the kettle started to squeal, water heating unnaturally fast due to the current of energy. "Now let's get the tea steeping and forget about this...nonsense. We've got to keep ourselves level-headed or we'll make rash decisions."

"Oh I don't know, like inviting guests? All while you're bound to an entity like myself?" Aziraphale tried to come up with a retort, but heard Anathema humming along with the music in the distance and let out a long sigh.

"You're right, the situation is just awful. Is it so bad that I'm trying to find comfort by going back to a more normal routine?" He gave the demon a sorrowful look, the sides of his mouth drooping even as he tried to smile. Crowley saw he'd struck a nerve and quickly tried to dial back his tone, rubbing over his shoulder. The contact was more relaxing than it should've been, and Aziraphale found himself leaning into it. It was so warm. 

"Angel, I'm- I'm not mad at you, not at all, I'm-"

"Can we just...put it aside for now? I just need to get through the next hour or so. Weigh our options."

"...Right, right. I'm sorry." He finished putting the tray together and walked closely behind him, leaving the room a little colder than it had been before. 

\---

"So...you somehow managed...to _summon_ him?" Anathema gawked, the cup of tea in her hand nearly sloshing over in her shock. "No way...I didn't think it was possible!" She seemed much too excited, Aziraphale thought. Crowley was sitting by his side, closer than before. He hadn't touched his tea, though that wasn't necessarily a surprise. "I've done minor spirit work before, yes, but nothing nearly as serious as this. You've actually materialized your own friend...You could, you know, tell me how you did i-"

"No, my dear lady, you certainly do not want to get yourself caught up in this sort of rubbish. While I believe you'd be much more capable of handling yourself in a situation such as this, please never attempt something so utterly idiotic. I've been ashamed of myself. It's only caused us trouble."

"Oh, I see. I apologize for being forward...but still, how could you have managed it? You must've spent hours getting a giant alter set up, used blood and nails and teeth-"

"Ah, actually no. It was very easy, I was even a little tipsy. I mean, I know a bit about summoning from reading, but our circumstances aren't very...favorable."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Well-" He was cut off when Crowley squeezed his hand, not having noticed the touch till now. He was giving him a hard stare. He wasn't sure what he'd said wrong, but quickly dialed back his words a little. "Oh...I don't think I can tell you much else. It's all very secretive, unfortunately. Can't risk this fate falling upon anyone else." The grand on his hand relaxed a bit, and the angel tried to narrow down the topic, speed up the conversation as much as he could. "I just need to know if there's any way to undo a bond."

"Well, that much is obvious. During the ritual you create an inte-"

"No, no. You see, I cannot for the life of me remember just what my intention was. I was rather distracted."

"Oh, then that does complicate things."

"Indeed. Apparently, given the circumstances, we're stuck within a close proximity till I can find some way to fulfill it. My friend...he hasn't been looking very well." Anathema glanced over and nodded, jerking her gaze back and coughing.

"Um...yeah I was wondering about that. As soon as I walked in, I felt a very unwelcoming energy. Your friend doesn't hate witches or anything, does he?" Aziraphale was confused as she didn't seem to want to address Crowley herself, avoiding his gaze entirely. "I haven't talked with him much in the past, but today it just feels like this whole room wants to crush me."

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry dear! No, absolutely not, Crowley has no ill feeling towards you. You're very accomplished and bright...isn't that right, Crowley?" The demon was busy scowling at her, one of his teeth biting into his bottom lip. "Um, yes, he's a bit under the weather but he means well. I'm very glad you could come."

"If you're sure. I've never dealt with something like this before, as you can imagine, so it's out of my realm of experience. You could try a banishing ritual, an exorcism...though none of those would really apply to this situation exactly. You might easily hurt him, since he's not simply a shadowy creation living on a different plane. I don't know much about the nature of a bond, only of ridding people and places of unwanted spirits. They've never had a personal tie to the host."

She shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms. "I have to say, this place has taken on an incredibly low vibration...oh, sorry. What I mean to say is your energy is all changed. I can't say if that's a good thing or a bad thing. All I know is you're stuck together on an astral level, and to this day there doesn't seem to be a sure way to break it without following the original rules."

"Maybe rules aren't the **problem**." Crowley interjected, making the woman jump in surprise at his sudden, sharp tone. "Everything is going fine. We don't need your help."

"Crowley! That's very unkind...please apologize."

"...I'm... _Sorry_." he ground out like a taunt, forced to comply despite how his every word was dripping in poison. 

"See? Another aspect of the bond is that he must do as I say. I can't explain it, it's like he's being manipulated like a puppet whenever I give a command. It's unnerving."

"I'd say..." she whispered, visibly shaken. "Look, I'd suggest you call Tracy for this one. Maybe she could help assist in some...shadow work? Or astral communication. Either way, the Crowley you know isn't there right now. Rather, he's been affected by the bond to an extreme extent. I mean, just look at his _eyes_."

Aziraphale peered over in confusion, catching a glimpse of something bright and wide, though they softened to normal the moment he looked. "Please be safe. I've heard really bad things about bonds...call me if you need, but I think it'd be best if I left for now." Her gaze was fixated on the floor now, face twitching. "It's only going to make things worse if I stay here."

"It's okay, I'm sure we'll sort things out soon enough. Please do get in contact with me if you find anything, though, won't you?"

"Of course. I'll give you a ring the second I come up with something, but I have to go right _now_." she was already quickly walking out the door of the study, having paled throughout the conversation. "Get in contact with Tracy as soon as possible, or some kind of medium- things are going to get a lot more dangerous from here on out." 

Aziraphale watched her leave, the meaning of her words twisting around in his thoughts like cake batter, sugared with the sweetness of naivete. He looked at the demon with a frown, crossing his arms and pouting his lip.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself? That was very rude."

"I stand by it. She was completely out of line- did you even hear the way she was talking about me? We don't need anyone trying to 'help'. If an actual demon can't tell you how to get out of this you really think a witch can? Or a medium for that matter...s'all bollocks. Humans will never understand even the barest concept of what a bond is."

"Honestly." he huffed, sinking farther down into the sofa. "I was at least comforted by the girl's presence. It was nice seeing a familiar face, and you made her hurry out. What's gotten into you?"

"Just tired I guess."

"Then for Heaven's sake, _sleep_. Tomorrow we'll have a visit with Miss Tracy, and then we'll gather together all the information we have so far and compile it into a list. Once we do that, well, we'll...wait and see, I suppose."

"I'm sick of waiting."

"I know, I am rather unbearable at times, especially if you have no choice than to stay by my side."

"No, that's not...angel, I don't mind. I really don't. I enjoy your company."

"Yes but you're not here of your own choice. If you had the option you'd been curled up in your own flat, or maybe off on a nice long drive. Not here."

"Maybe I just haven't had the right excuse for that yet." 

"I don't understand your point."

"My point is...just...I _like_ being around you, okay? I really, really do. You're not unbearable. Not to me."

"Well that's very nice of you to say, but you can be honest. I get in over my head, say things I shouldn't, ruin things for others..."

"Those are all things I like about you." He unexpectedly leaned in and _hugged_ him, wrapping his arms around the unsuspecting angel and curling around him. "I like it when you make mistakes, rope me into things I can't expect ahead of time. I like it when you lose your temper and yell, tell me honestly what you feel without that constant effort to be a _perfect_ _and good_ angel all the time." He was speaking next to the angel's air, cupping the curls of hair behind his neck and petting. Aziraphale didn't know how to respond, face very red. "Yet you still think this is a bad thing?"

"Well I- of-of course it is. We need freedom from each other, obviously. We can't spend an eternity like this."

"...Yeah, right, sorry. Lost myself a little there. Must be the exhaustion." he sighed, pulling back and leaving the angel shivering at the rush of cold air. "Just y'know, you're always trying to see the good in everything. I was just trying to be positive."

"That's good! Very good. Optimism will take you far in the grand scheme of things." he said breathlessly, choking into his elbow as he tried to restore his composure. "There must be some good in this situation, if only the lessons we've learned!"

"...Right."

"Right."

"...Hey angel?"

"Yes?"

"Can we try sleeping again?"

\---

Aziraphale swallowed at Crowley's suggestion to give sleep another attempt, searching his mind for ways this could be done in a way that would prevent any, er...unwanted nibbles during the night. 

"You want to try eating something before bed? There's plenty of cake left...you hardly touched your piece, and I promise it's absolutely divine."

"Maybe I'll have some for breakfast." he replied, sounding much more cheerful than earlier that evening. "You worry so much about me, angel. There's no reason to get your wings in a ruffle, I've never been one to eat, especially not sugary things before a nap. Too many molecules running through my system to relax."

"I know that, but um...you know, it may help prevent any...hunger pangs during the night." he tried to put lightly. The mark on his throat had all but disappeared and he really wasn't worried about any actual injuries, but Crowley had seemed so heartbroken when he'd realized what he'd done, and the angel didn't want that to happen ever again. "Maybe an empty stomach prompts you to take a bite of anything nearby, and well, there are more than enough desserts to go around." 

"It'll be fine." They reached Aziraphale's flat upstairs, and the room seemed like an ice sculpture now that they stepped in there for the first time since the incident. Everything cold, stale, frozen in place. "We'll just sleep a little farther away this time. You take the bed, I take the floor." 

"Oh, how about the opposite? I'm not the one who needs sleep, and that sounds so dreadfully uncomfortable for you."

"Eh, I'll put down a blanket or two, maybe some pillows. I used to sleep on piles of papers back when I lived in Hell, you know. If you can call it sleep." The angel sighed and went to the closet to retrieve some spare bedding, a tiny bead of sweat rolling down his back. He wasn't sure why, given how cold it was. His pulse was racing, and he blamed the sugar, promising himself to moderate his intake of sweets tomorrow. 

"You're sure? You're the one who needs sleep, so it'd make more sense if-"

" _Shush_." he said in an obviously amused voice, and Aziraphale wondered if the demon was actually feeling better now. Maybe seeing Anathema had been good for them both, even if the visit had hardly lasted more than half an hour. "This is how things usually are during a bond. If you were anyone else, I'd be lucky to have a rug to sleep on, if I'd be permitted to sleep at all."

"Oh, that's just horrible."

"Not if you're summoning a creature with the intention to wipe out all your familial ties in one long, bloody night." he drawled, circling his place on the floor and kneading his hands into the blankets that'd just been placed there. "Sleep doesn't really serve much of a purpose for demons to begin with, much less in times like this. Our function isn't to rest, it's to do as we're told and do it quick."

"Then why-"

"You're all questions, aren't you? Ahh, we've been so focused on this stupid 'bond' for too long. Let's chat about something else, shall we? You can ask me anything you like."

"Well, alright." he murmured back, lighting a candle that smelled sweetly of apple and placing it on the nightstand by the bed. He had a bit more courage and miracled on his pajamas this time, more at ease now that they had been so close for a while now, so he didn't feel as ridiculous in the ruffled material. "What about...before this, before all this started, what were you up to in your everyday life?"

"Well, nothing much. I'd gone on a few long car rides, checking out whatever new sights I'd missed out on in these past few years... visited the National Gallery and other museums just to revisit some of my favorite architecture- also did some work in a botanical garden nearby. I haven't been extremely busy or anything, just sort of trying to find my way around the world now that I know it's not going to disappear from under my feet."

"Oh, that's nice. We should go somewhere together soon. It's been so long since I've gone through paths of flowers-and you can show me which plants you tended to!"

"Yeah, yeah, that'd be great. I can't wait to show you my work. I think you'll be impressed. Had the humans awe-struck, I can tell you that."

"I'll be looking forward to it after our bond is broken." he sighed back, mind filling eagerly with future plans. It'd been so long since they'd really enjoyed each other's company, the air so tense between them. Getting out and seeing beautiful sights was just what they needed.

"Who says we have to wait? I can take you tomorrow."

"Well, Miss Tracy is-"

"Meh, there's no need to invite her so soon, is there? Anathema was just getting you all worked up over nothing. We can wait another day or two. Yeah, tomorrow I can take you to all your favorite places; I'll get you ice cream, and then you just lead the way. We can go wherever you want, spend the entire day out." 

"That idea does sound lovely, however...I just don't think it's a good idea. Not now."

"Why? Angel, you've got to stop worrying. S'not good for you." he coaxed, looking up at him from his place on the floor, arms curled over the top of his chest and breathing slowly. "Sure, I freaked out a bit the last time we went out but that was just because I was still trying to get used to the bond. Now I'm familiar with it, doesn't effect me as much. I can take you wherever you like, and you won't have to be on your guard because I'll make sure you're safe." That thought made the angel's heart pick up... this was something he'd wanted for a long time. To just spend time together freely, enjoying their days in each other's company, without whatever crushing apprehensiveness that had just a few weeks prior made all their conversations so strained.

It was as though Crowley was finally over his spell, that they could forget about the stresses of the would've-been apocalypse and take each day as it happens. 

"I...n-no, we really should get this over with. I know it might feel nice to pretend like everything's alright but at the end of the day you're still stuck with me, not out of free will. We can go to all the places you love after I've released you, and oh, we'll have so much fun!" 

"... _ **Fine**_." he said with such spite the angel could hear his teeth grind when he closed his mouth, rolling over and abruptly ending their conversation.

Oh, maybe he'd said the wrong thing...he should've asked about the most recent movies he'd watched, or if he'd gotten into any new hobbies. He'd apparently struck a nerve. Again.

He spent the next hour going over more light-hearted questions he could ask tomorrow, his eyes increasingly growing more heavy. 

\---

" _Mmmf_." Aziraphale sighed, blinking so his gaze could adjust to the dim room. Well, there were no teeth wedged in his throat or arms constricting his waist, so that was already an improvement. He couldn't see the clock from here but it felt like some hours had passed, and that it was sometime midway through the night. 

He wasn't sure what'd woken him from his sleep till he looked down to see if Crowley was doing alright. He...wasn't there. 

Aziraphale rubbed his eyes to help himself see better and was about to get up and turn on a lamp till he noticed there was a sheet hanging down from the ceiling. He could see vaguely from the flickering light emitting from the candle nearby, and the silhouette made him jump till he realized what it was. 

Oh. 

Crowley had evidently floated his way up there during the night, which wasn't at all unusual for the beast. He knew him to be quite a _light_ sleeper, he thought to himself with a coy smile. "Someone's certainly had a long day..." he whispered, too quiet to be heard. Yawning, he rested back, watching the demon hover above the bed with his limbs hanging down like a marionette. The blankets were everywhere on the floor now, just one sheet having twisted around his waist, the tip of it within the angel's reach.

He grinned one last time and closed his eyes, pulling the blanket closer over himself. Ugh, it was just freezing tonight! He considered that he might've left a window open, or that the air conditioner was malfunctioning even worse than yesterday. He was shivering, and began rubbing his hands over his shoulders to get some friction.

There was a scratching noise overhead. He didn't open his eyes, but saw familiar light through his lids and knew the demon must've woken up, the luminance of his gaze hitting the angel's own vision and cascading over his face. Poor thing, could he get more than a few hours of rest at a time?

He heard more scratching, long scrapes that sounded as though wallpaper was being peeled with knives. Oh dear, he didn't want to look and see what was happening to the paint. "Something wrong, dear?" he called softly up to the beast, rolling over to get the light out of his line of sight and heaving a deeper sigh. "It's awfully chilly, isn't it? Do you want to take the bed after all? I'll gladly switch places with you."

There was suddenly a weight on the bed, and Crowley was sitting behind him. There hadn't been any kind of thud or other noise as he apparently transitioned down to that level, but Aziraphale was too relaxed to question it. Must've used a miracle.

"I'm so cold, angel. Please, can I sleep with you?" he mumbled, staring down at him keenly. "The floor's like ice, and the bed wouldn't be much better unless you were there to warm it up."

"What?" he turned and looked up at the demon in confusion. He couldn't see very well, like his senses had been dulled by some sort of illness or drug, but he just yawned again and flipped himself around. "Sh-posh I should get an electric blanket or something...remind me to do that later, would you? Make a...note of it in your...demon brain." He finished, his thoughts lost in a soup of grogginess. He opened his arms in invitation, catching a glimpse of that same striking brightness Crowley's eyes had possessed a few nights ago, but again it was a mere flicker. "See, like this. Last time you were holding onto me. So, tonight I'll hold onto you. That way you won't be able to wiggle around and cause mischief."

"Okay!" he said, sounding so pleased it caught the angel off guard. "That's perfect. I bet you're positively roasting underneath all these covers."

"I'm actually quite chilly. Remind me to...what was it? Oh, I'll think of it in the morning." he finished with a sigh, feeling a soothing blanket of warmth are soon as he cupped an arm over Crowley's chest. Well, he wasn't sure how the demon was practically burning to a crisp compared to himself, like an ember in a fireplace that'd somehow fallen into his arms. It was so satisfying after feeling like he was surrounded by snow that he made a happy noise in his chest and cuddled closer, inches away from his hair. "You say you were cold? You're burning up. Could this be some kind of fever?"

"I feel fine now. Don't worry about it angel, I'm going to be perfectly fine from now on."

"You're saying some sleep has helped?"

"Must've." The beast had a harder time moving now that Aziraphale had wrapped his arms around his chest, but managed to reach a hand up and squeeze the angel's hand. Oh, his touch was so wonderfully warm. A balm for his icy fingers. "I guess we were getting all worried about nothing. Sleep definitely helps, and there's no danger to it. I was just getting used to the bond, s'all. Everything's going to be okay now."

"Ss'lovely news..." he murmured, eyes getting heavy as rocks, the feeling of such heat against him melting any tension in his muscles. "...Lovely news indeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Me while writing this* Hmm...something's missing...oh yes! *sprinkles a little Idiot™ powder and a dollop of Dense™ juice on Aziraphale* Ahh much better :3
> 
> For those of u who are waiting on the Wrinkles fic( as I've so aptly named it on my computer) I realllyy wanted to have a double update by today but I have had zero inspiration for it in the past month (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻ Plus it's week one of my semester and chemistry/anatomy is already frying my brain into a sizzling steak hirkrfknr,n,rnf,rekcnjdfkjewjfnwj
> 
> Well, at least I have a majority of the this fic figured out (which is something most people do _before _they write something but I am a rebel.__


	7. Part of Me

"Cream? Sugar?" Crowley said, smiling from ear to ear. It was so nice to see him looking better, all the tension gone from his face. Aziraphale grinned back at him, enjoying his morning of pampering while he flipped through a book.

He'd had the most lovely sleep, waking up in a nest of warmth and comfort. There were blankets and pillows all around him, snuggling under Crowley's arm. He'd had a dream about Eden, and could almost feel the handle of his fiery sword in his palm. The holy power of it felt so soothing, lighting his way no matter where he went.

A majority of his dream he waded through a quiet stream that swept about his feet, following a trail of the most luscious fruit he'd ever seen. They were lined in an even row, one appearing every few steps, all perfectly plump. He trekked through a bed of crystal-clear water that tasted of honeysuckle and orange and grew more famished the farther he went. The more he reached down to take a new offering, the more the juices stained into his robe, trickled down his neck. He giggled even now at the deliciously sweet taste in every careless bite.

He wished he could dream it all over again. His evening of indulging in desserts must've encouraged it. Goodness knows he didn't need anymore for the time being.

Crowley was there in his dream... though he wasn't there exactly. The angel could feel his presence, feel it all around, but at no point did the demon ever make himself known. It reminded him of how the serpent had followed him out of sight for months before his first introduction. He'd been too cautious to approach Aziraphale till he'd given away his flaming sword.

If he ever paused to listen and focus, beyond the gurgle of water, leaves, and juices dripping from his chin, he could hear breathing.

"Both, please." the angel replied, drifting back into his current environment. He swatted his hand when he began to reach for a scone covered in powdered sugar and chocolate shavings. He'd already eaten one that morning, which, to be fair, was less saturated with sugar than all that he'd consumed the previous night. It wasn't as if he could rid his system of nasty substances anymore, so he needed to exercise restraint.

Crowley handed him a steaming cup of a smoky bourbon chai, something he'd picked up last Fall and never got around to drinking. He'd lost it in the very back of his cabinet. Thankfully the tin kept the contents well out of sunlight, so the taste hadn't degraded much at all. A bright flavor of cinnamon and nutmeg coated his tongue and forced out another smile of contentment.

It was such a beautiful morning, the air fresh and clean. There was sunlight shining in through the window shades, and enough he hadn't heard any noises usual the morning bustle. No cars speeding by, no neighbors slamming their doors and running off to do errands. Not even the local dog that howled for an hour at the same time every day broke the quiet. It was just Crowley and himself.

"Oh, thank you very much, dear boy." He stirred the cup and pried his eyes away from the freshly-baked pan of scones. The demon had baked them earlier, along with some toasted pecans to top them, with a bit of caramel drizzle. "Do sit down, have a rest. You've more than earned it."

"Couldn't refuse if I wanted to." He melted down in a seat next to him, the mess left in the kitchenette disappearing with the flick of the finger. He hadn't bothered cleaning anything else in the entire store, books now were strewn around in a way Aziraphale was guilty of when he got too invested in his research. The angel hadn't touched the mess, too used to the convenience of miracles. Seeing as he couldn't figure out how to do away with a speck of dust right now...the rooms suffered from his lack of tidiness. Oh well, he'd clean right after this was all over with. "How's it taste?"

"Just divine, thank you." He breathed in the scent of sweet spices and let his head pleasantly swirl with it. "You make it just right, you know." 

"Well of course. You've had me make some kind of hot drink for you every day since I got here. I'm an expert on your preferences at this point. Though, I guess you aren't very hard to read in that regard. You like the little swirl right in the middle like some kind of connoisseur."

"I can't help it..." He pouted a little, taking his first sip, closing his eyes to enjoy the heat as it washed down his throat. "Everything you make tastes like a luxury on my tongue. Surely you used a miracle to bring out the flavors this much."

"You flatter me. It's just milk, tea, sugar... the same things I always use. Same as anyone." He watched the angel roll his tongue over his lips, wiping away a little trail of cream residue. "I think you just like to exaggerate things to make me feel better. S'okay... you can be honest."

"I am being honest!" he giggled, taking another long gulp that seemed to warm him to the core. "Just admit to yourself that you've perfected the recipe. Whatever dark magic you demons use, you must've prepared it with such trickery. I'm afraid nothing else is ever going to compare."

"Ah, but that's not true. Once you've tasted the best, you just have to keep looking for something better. In this case, I'll continue to find ways to please your palate."

"So you're going to be my chef, are you?" He sucked his thumb into his mouth, licking away some sweet foam. "That's quite the change of spirit. I thought you hated food."

"I do, but I didn't say I was going to partake. It's enough just to treat you." The angel could hardly believe it was Crowley saying those words. Well... yes, he might've sensed the demon enjoyed doing things for him, but it wasn't something he'd outright admit. There were layers to their interactions. Boundaries. It kept things safe, kept them from getting too close... without them, well, that would just be dangerous! What would Heaven think if they heard such words uttered from his enemy?

"Hmm... that does sound lovely, but I can just hear Gabriel's disappointed voice. 'Aziraphale, you've been indulging yourself a lot more lately, haven't you?'," he said in a mock tone, feeling slightly self-conscious as he remembered the archangel's face. "You should've seen him when he caught me halfway through a plate of-"

"That vulture deserves to be plucked. I'd gladly tear out all his feathers and serve them in a nice angelic pie if you like. See how he feels about your eating habits then." Aziraphale couldn't help but let out a surprised laugh, covering his mouth and trying to control it.

" _Crowley_ , that's going a bit too far."

"Why? Why do you stand there and let him say those things about you? All of those noisy birds. Imagine them squawking and wagging their beaks, demanding mercy after everything they'd put you through... Wouldn't it be a beautiful sight?" 

"You mustn't say such things." He hid his smile with his mug, mumbling. "Even if it is just a little amusing. It's _highly_ inappropriate."

"Stop pretending. Just admit it, it'd be fun. Hilarious. Gabriel, Micheal, all of them... I could ensure they'd never fly again. They'd never be able to destroy your _nest_. All these books, all your hard work would be safe, and the only thing you'd concern yourself with every day is what I'd prepare you for supper. Would you like that?"

"Goodness, you make everything sound nice, you wiley thing. Calling my store a nest..." He looked around at his wonderful shop, bits of frost accumulating on the inside of the windows. It'd dropped down below freezing last night, but somehow he was so warm and cozy right here. He was nestled in three blankets, and Crowley kept finding more pillows to throw on the sofa for him, before flopping down next to him.

The demon... he was practically a beckon of heat. A radiator of flesh and bone, drawing Aziraphale closer every passing minute to seek more of that comforting warmth. "I suppose it _is_ my nest, in a way. I wish everybody treated their home as such, rather than just a place to sleep."

"Well, not every house has a soft little dove living in it," he spoke, so close the angel could feel his breath flow over his ear. Aziraphale was so lazy and content, he didn't even acknowledge how the sensation sent chills through his head. "They're special, need lots of room to stretch out their wings." Aziraphale closed his eyes and imagined his shop was just one big nest. A place separate from the rest of the world, from Heaven and Hell; completely safe. 

Before he knew it, the angel had let his wings materialize behind himself.

He flustered, trying to stuff them back into the invisible realm in which he kept them hidden, but Crowley quickly reached a hand out and set it on Aziraphale's shoulder. So much _warmth_. It surged into his skin like a spark of fire, a flame that wouldn't burn him. "Angel. I haven't seen these since Eden... they're so beautiful. Don't stuff them away."

"It's a little embarrassing," he admitted, bowing his head. "I didn't mean for that to happen, it just... _happened_. I haven't preened them for decades now, so they look horrible." He wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. Both his wings were ruffled and shedding, eager for hands to run through them and smooth out all the barbs.

"They're _gorgeous_. If I were you I'd never put them away. The humans would get used to the sight eventually. I certainly wouldn't mind it." That earned a chuckle from the angel, who was flushing despite his every instinct to keep control over his expressions.

In truth, he'd wanted Crowley to see them, to _touch_ them for... well, ever. The serenity that grooming provided was always cut short in Heaven, the hands of other angels struggling to get through the job quickly and efficiently, to keep up appearances but stay on schedule for their other duties. He'd assumed the pleasure that grooming provided wasn't for enjoyment, rather just an instinct to make himself look as She would want one of Her own to look. Perfect.

Right now though, the idea of having Crowley's searing palms gliding up into the barbs had him shuddering excitedly, already turning around, suddenly devoid of his apprehension. "That's right, that's right. Let me take care of you."

Aziraphale blushed more when the demon's first finger slid across the tip of his wing experimentally, allowing the angel time to adjust his stomach onto the pillows. " _That'ssss_ it... lay forward just like that. You're safe. Safe from all the worries of the world. Safe with me."

Aziraphale almost cried when the demon added two more fingers into the mix, smoothing down the outer layer from top to the very bottom of his primaries. Wings were much more sensitive than skin, responsive to the slightest touch. It was like the world around him disappeared, a never-ending warmth overtaking his senses. The only way he could describe grooming was... it felt sweet. The taste of honey stirred into tea, rolling around in grass on a sunny day without regard for stains. It'd never felt this good before, not with the cold grasps of those that didn't care for his experience.

Crowley purred behind him, a small, soft growl that rumbled through the angel's back. He didn't know how his morning had ended up this way, but he wasn't about to change anything at all.

"How's that feel? Your feathers are shaking. Am I too fast?"

"N-o-" he tried to speak, forgetting how to process speech at first in such a primal indulgence. "No, you're doing just fine. More than fine. Oh goodness, yes, that's just how I need it." A long-suffered itch was being relieved, an ache of repressing forgotten wings was finally being lifted. 

"Oh, just look at you. A paragon, you are. These wings are far more desirable than anything else in all of Heaven or Earth. To think I have you under _my_ hands." Crowley added in another hand and cupped both sides, continuing slow pressing downwards, kneading as he went. Aziraphale leaned into every touch, beginning to let out long sighs of satisfaction. "They're the prettiest things I've ever seen or felt. More enchanting than I remember in Eden."

" _Mmmm_... er's nothing perfect about them. They're all... fluffed and disordered and... _aaahh_..." he couldn't finish, relaxing farther forward. His eyes drooped, face squished into a pillow. Crowley sensed where he liked to be touched and pressed in just the right places. There wasn't any need to direct him.

This continued for some time, all thoughts fading from Aziraphale's mind in favor of experiencing this one pleasure. He was practically limp by the time Crowley pulled back, stray down feathers all around the couch now like someone had ripped open a feather pillow and scattered the contents everywhere. He felt lighter, nearly weightless. 

"...Aziraphale, is it alright if I take one?"

"Hm?" he replied, now laying in a blissful heap on the demon's lap, just staring lazily up at him. He didn't realize he'd been rolled over like this till now, just barely feeling the sharp angles of Crowley's knees through his vest. Oh goodness, were his eyes always that bright?

"A feather. Just one." The angel blinked at him, too dazed to understand the beast's strange request at first.

"Oh, yes. Of course, whichever you like."

"Thank you. This is only going to hurt a little." Aziraphale winced when Crowley took hold of one of the healthy secondary feathers, gripping the rest of the wing gently as he pulled. There was a small tingle, then a sharp sting. The pain was gone in an instant, and he assumed the demon must've miracled it away, as the feather he'd pulled out had been quite deep. There were a few droplets of blood coating the quill, and Crowley held the piece up to admire in better light. "There. Just perfect, a little piece of you all for myself."

Aziraphale started to chuckle before the demon brought the feather to his mouth, sniffing and smoothing it across his lips. It was a little mesmerizing to watch, how he studied it and ran his tongue across it, nuzzling his nose against it. The white fluff contrasted his tanned skin, glowing under the beast's bright gaze.

Then, he opened his jaw wide, dangling the feather above his open mouth before letting it fall inside. 

The angel gaped, watching the demon roll the feather around inside his cheek, biting down on it with a soft crunch. He made some gutturally satisfied noises, sucking on his fingers that'd held it, and then- oh dear, he _swallowed_ it. It was easy for him to consume whatever he wanted since his jaw could detach, but it was a bit daunting to see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped down a _feather_ of all things. 

" _Mmm_... ssssee? S'part of me now. It'll stay there and keep us connected."

Aziraphale wasn't sure how to respond. It wasn't as if Crowley didn't eat strange things from time to time, but it was still a surprise. Something that had been so close to himself, so personal, it was now sitting somewhere in the demon's belly. 

It was like watching himself being eaten.

"Any more thoughts on going for a drive? We could wait just a bit until you gather your strength back. Just look at you." he said softly, brushing through the angel's hair in a way that was almost as blissful as the grooming had felt. "You look about ready to sleep again."

"M-maybe just for a little bit!" he quickly sputtered, rolling himself back over on his stomach before Crowley could see into him anymore. "An hour or two, no more. I suppose it might be fun."

\---

 _An hour or two_. Really, in hindsight, this hadn't been Aziraphale's best idea. It was growing dark by the time he realized how late it was, how much time they'd spent gallivanting through town like there wasn't a care in the world. He could still feel a place where a thin trail of ice cream had slid down his chin, feel the sides of his mouth ache from smiling so much throughout the day.

They'd seen a show, then another, then they'd gone for coffee and ended up at an ice cream parlor with a bowl of three different flavors. His stomach would've felt achy from sugar at this point if Crowley wasn't constantly checking on him, using whatever miracles were necessary to ensure he was comfortable at all times. _Spoiling_ him.

They'd finished the day by going for a walk in a park he hadn't visited for years. The way was lined with roses, the warm air a pleasant change from his freezing bookstore. It felt substantially less safe outside where there were no walls to keep him hidden, but Crowley was there, and not a single thing could get past his watchful eye. Goodness, a dog had lurched off from its master's leash and run up to him, surely about to bite at his leg. All the demon had to do was step between them and say something Aziraphale couldn't make out, and the little canine was speeding away with its tail between its legs.

The angel has bundled in yet another blanket now, mainly because Crowley's car seemed to have a similar issue with its air conditioning. It felt snug, and he had it wrapped around his shoulders while he listened to a strangely slow and quiet song on the radio. It wasn't the demon's normal taste, but he supposed they still had much to learn about each other.

He was on the verge of dozing off by the time the car whirred to a stop outside the shop, and he allowed Crowley to take his hand and help him out of the car like some kind of royalty exiting their carriage. After spending so much time outside, his body was buzzing with energy finally given an outlet. Just walking, laughing, and well, _wiggling_ somehow took that much out of him.

" _Mmmhf_..." he sighed as they walked to the door together, shoulder to shoulder. Crowley was warm as ever, his own personal fireplace, and he pressed up against him while they muttered a few words about the day. "Thank you, I had a lovely time."

"See? I told you it'd be just what you needed. A little time out, to stretch your legs and smell the air."

"Indeed. Wait... say, did you leave the door open?" 

Crowley's body went rigid, a low growl beginning to rumble through his chest. "That's odd. Oh dear, have we been robbed?"

The demon grabbed his wrist and belted towards the doorway, shoving it open and looking around wildly as soon as they came inside. "D-dear, I'm sure everything is alright, maybe I just forgot to-"

He jumped when he saw two figures sitting across from them in his study. 

"Oh m- Miss Tracy? Shadwell? What are you two doing here? How did you get in?"

Shadwell sneered at them, holding some kind of bag in his palm. Tracy was smiling, but there was a more serious expression on her face than how he remembered. 

"Aziraphale... you left your door unlocked." the woman began, shifting awkwardly in her seat. "I'm sorry we had to intrude like this, but dear Anathema gave us a call and we couldn't waste a moment. Everything is prepared. Please come sit down in here." She patted a seat by her side.

"What's prepared? Are we going to have a meal together or something?" Crowley's growl had grown increasingly over the exchange, bristling next to him like a cat. "You two are welcome here, but I wish you could've given me some kind of notice. I've left this place in quite a state."

" **Get** _**out**_." Crowley snarled, clutching the angel's hand in an almost painful grip. "You two aren't needed or wanted here. We came in without Aziraphale's permission like criminals. We could have you arrested and charged."

"Dear! It's alright." the angel soothed, patting Crowley's head. The demon relaxed a little, but only for a moment. Aziraphale heard claws unsheathing from their fleshy disguise, scales popping out along his throat. "It isn't as if they meant us any harm." He started walking in the two's direction, and Crowley quickly grabbed the back of his collar.

"Angel, _think_ about this. These bloody maggots couldn't be bothered to call you before traipsing inside like they own the place. I bet they were just thrilled with the chance to make off with your rarest of books, all the collections you've worked to guard all this time."

"Don't be rude, dear boy. They can hear you," he whispered, glancing at them and back to Crowley. "It'd be best to listen to what they have to say before drawing such conclusions, wouldn't it?"

"The only conclusion you're going to reach is that they want to hurt us. Look- just what are all those things they're carrying? I think I see a **knife** , Aziraphale." The angel's skin prickled, noticing the shiny tip sticking out from behind the woman's back. "They don't understand this type of connection. Their instincts will tell them to destroy it by whatever means possible."

"Nonsense. Just... just calm down for a moment; we need to be rational and listen to their explanations." He sighed, trying not to notice how the demon was pulling him closer. He looked into the beast's eyes and smiled, cupping his cheek. "Please. It's going to be okay."

\---

"Thank you so much, dearie." Tracy sighed, sipping a cup of rather disgusting tea. Crowley had been in charge of making it, and well, that had gone as well as expected. They were sitting in the main room and the air was thick with stress, hardly anyone making a move. They'd gone through a bit of casual small-talk till now, the angel trying to lead the conversation as much as he could, avoid starting any conflicts.

Shadwell was looking almost as furious as the demon, not even hiding his glare. He was a few feet away from the woman, tapping his foot loudly. 

"No problem. I'm...I'm very thankful that you two could arrive at such brief notice." the angel spoke politely, wincing as he swallowed down bitter tea, trying to keep his voice even. "As you know, my friend and I are in a bit of trouble. I assume miss Anathema told you everything."

Tracy was looking less relaxed now, rubbing Shadwell's shoulders as he continued to speak beneath his breath.

Crowley was so close to the angel he could hear his short, labored breaths. "I apologize for the mess. A lot has happened, and well, I've had too much on my mind." It hadn't occurred to him just how untidy the place had gotten. There were dust on on all the furniture, cobwebs lining the ceilings. 

"Don't you worry about a thing. Um... can you ask your friend to wait there for a moment?" She pointed to the entrance of the room. 

"...Come again?" the demon finally spoke, brows shooting up. "Anything you need to say you can say when I'm right here."

"Crowley, it's alright." the angel coaxed, giving his shoulder a brisk pat. He saw a bit of the anger melt from his face, but his stare was still stone cold. "Wait outside." Like an invisible pull, the demon had to follow his order, taking a few steps backward even as he protested. "We'll be done soon, dear, just make yourself comfortable. I'll still be nearby so you shouldn't experience any pain."

"I don't give a shite about the _pain_ ** _!_** " he groaned, standing rigidly outside the doorway. Tracy motioned to Shadwell and whispered something in his ear, and for a moment his eyes gleamed. 

"It's okay." he tried to say, words lost as the beast looked down and saw the man pull out a bag from his pocket, quickly realizing it was salt when he started to spread it in a line, barring the demon from entering. 

"Holy- _ **Aziraphale**!"_ he snapped, tossing his glasses away and staring wide-eyed as his only opening was stripped from him. " _What the fuck?!_ You're letting them-angel, get out of there!"

"There's a reason for this, and it'll all be explained soon enough I'm sure-" Crowley jumped forward, trying to reach his hand through the invisible wall and wrenching his arm back as if it was burnt. 

"Get out this instant!" he spat, rapidly scanning the doorway for loose bits of wood. His eyes were getting brighter, much more so than was normal for him. Any ounce of restraint had left his exterior left as he started wildly scratching at the wall next to the door with his claws. "Are you insane? You're going to leave me out here, cage yourself inside with those two humans?! Just think for a second, you don't want to do this. You don't want to do this."

"Ahhh, that felt good." Shadwell drawled, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "Didn't think we'd get the bastard locked out in time. Really could've pulled a number on my back in that state of his- whatever's left of him."

_**"Angel!"** _

"Hush now," Tracy whispered, pity clear in her voice. "I promise we're doing this for your own good. Aziraphale, look at me." The angel had to force his gaze back to the woman, swallowing down a tight lump. His pulse was racing; he hadn't seen the beast so furious in...well, ever. He looked completely out of his mind, ramming against the wall like he might be able to shove it in.

Even now Shadwell was going around the room and lining the walls with salt, blocking any points of entry. "We need to come up with a plan, and quickly. Neither of us has conducted an exorcism in many years, but..."

"Oh, surely there's a more humane option. You can't promise that isn't going to hurt him. He's attached, not fused. Would it even work in our situation?" Tracy sighed, visibly shivering. 

"I'm... the most important thing right now is breaking the bond before he gets any stronger. From the looks of things, we're almost out of time. Just look at him. That's not your friend...can't you see it?"

Crowley was pacing back and forth, talking manically over their conversation. He was leaving long streaks of wallpaper on the floor as he tore into the wall. "It might hurt him, it might hurt you, but it's most likely the only option. Do you understand that?"

"What... _no!"_ the angel squeaked, shaking his head quickly. "What you did back before I took over your body, wouldn't that work now?"

"You were stuck on the astral plane, it's much different now."

"Angel! **Angel!!"** the demon cried, starting to bang against the walls with his full body. "They're going to hurt you, they want to take me away from you. You can't let them!" Aziraphale's chest stung as their eyes met, feeling like he'd been burnt by fire deep in his core.

"Calm down, please? No-um, calm down." he tried to say more resolutely, then watched as his command did absolutely nothing. "Crowley, didn't you hear me? Calm down!"

"That won't work anymore, not after _thisssss."_ He growled, so low and loud the floor shook beneath them. _**"** Get away from **my** angel!!" _he yelled, taking a few steps back just to ram himself against the wall. "You think you know what's best for him? For anyone? You know nothing, you're nothing but little bags of blood, bone, mucus-"

He continued to curse and hurl threats, using both his words and body to pierce the air with sound. "When I'm done not even Hell will get what's left, do you hear me?! Let my angel go or I'll use your viscera as paint. It'll decorate that lovely little study and then I'll wash it all away, leave nothing of you left behind."

Aziraphale shrunk into his chair, watching the scene unfold like he was seeing another being come out of someone he'd known for so long. That familiar, comforting face, now contorted completely with pure hatred. He didn't know what to do. Tracy tried to talk above his rambling. Even Shadwell looked unnerved.

Crowley snarled again, body starting to become darker, like char was growing up his limbs. He raced backward and disappeared, and the angel wondered if the bond had somehow been broken after all- how else could he get so far away?

"Quickly, we need to draw-" Tracy spoke above the creaking all around, the whole place quiet till footsteps started pattering up above. "Oh...he's above us now." She looked up and braced her head as debris began raining down. There was muffled shrieking now, completely unnatural even for Crowley. "W-we need to draw this-so-so he can't get in."

"The salt isn't enough?" Aziraphale gasped, backing against a bookcase. "Oh-oh I can't- I apologize, I should be doing more to help, but he's my friend! There has to be a safer way." All the furniture was rattling, the room getting colder by the second. Shadwell was fumbling around in his pocket for a lighter as the power went out and the light from the sun began to dissipate behind the window somehow, as if it was being blocked out by an invisible curtain, or night had come early.

"Stop it," the other man barked, pointing to the angel with a piece of chalk. "I know your kind is oblivious to the dangers of Earth, spoilt as you are with yer bloody powers, but the rest of us have to worry about our own skin." 

"You're _not_ helping," Tracy chastised, grabbing the chalk from his hand and bending down to the floor. She made a lopsided circle and then a few more, twisting the piece around in her hands and creating small sigils within the confines of the marks. "There that should be enough for the time being. Anathema taught these to me in a rush, so I'm not sure if it's... Aziraphale, stay in this room and don't leave under any circumstances."

"What? For how long?"

"Till we can come up with a plan that doesn't involve exorcism, or till you accept that it might be the only solution."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🎃
> 
> I hope all of you have a ~delicious~ weekend! 
> 
> (Here's a blanket and a hug for anyone who needs it 😂)


	8. Burning Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyy sorry for not updating for so long (っ °Д °;)っ I think we can all agree this year has just been getting more and more stressful (and so has my homework >.< Like legit I just had a 7 fuckin chapter test and it wasn't even a midterm or anything. All my classmates were complaining about it today. Send help ;-;)
> 
> Here's some completely wholesome and comforting content to chase away all your worries ✨ Nothing but fluff and cuddles for this chapter teeheeヾ(•ω•`)o

Aziraphale watched the two humans bicker with each other, trying to raise their voices above the thrashing outside the room. 

It was so cold, so very cold. Frost was sticking to his coat, and his face was stiff with both apprehension and the unbearable temperature. It was Summer... wasn't it? Had entire seasons passed and he hadn't even noticed? The entire room was little more than a whirling snowglobe, filled with icy winds and flurries of snow with no discernable origin.

Bits of wallpaper and debris coated the floor, shattered pieces of glass from a fallen lamp crunched underfoot. Long silences were always followed by deafening screeches of nails scraping into the wall, splintering anything pliant. He was sure at least two of his sturdy bookcases had fallen over upstairs. He could even hear pieces of paper floating down to the floor and crinkling under thumping shoes.

He could make out the sound of Crowley above it all, voice raw and deep, calling from someplace around the study. The direction kept changing, sometimes far and sometimes near. Occasionally it seemed as though it was coming from beneath deep water, and then it grew till he could almost hear it right in his ear. They'd barricaded the door, so he couldn't tell what was happening outside. He could only listen and wait, sitting useless and shivering uncontrollably.

"I told you this would happen if we didn't stick a knife in tha bastard at once, woman!" Shadwell repeated in a hushed tone, pushing a tottering cabinet against the door. "Had to listen to the advice of a bloody _witch_. See where that's got us."

"We aren't dead, are we?" she grumbled back, trying to redo a poor excuse for a sigil on the floor with smudged ink on shaky fingers. Her pen had snapped in half and her piece of chalk turned to dust in her hand early into the night, so she was working with anything available. Nothing seemed to work as it should in this room. Aziraphale had hardly noticed how accustomed he was to the laws of physics until now when every state of matter was defying logic. "All my experience comes from astral work. I'm a medium, not an exorcist! You told me you knew what to do."

"I didn't think you'd stick to the humane plan once you saw how bad things were. We could've dealt with quickly, and we wouldn't be sitting ducks just waiting to be torn ta' bits. Doubt there's any _sweet and friendly spirit_ that can get us out of this one."

"Please don't be angry," Aziraphale muttered, hanging his head in his hands. "This is all my fault. None of this should've happened to anyone. Crowley isn't to blame, he's very good and kind... the bond has just messed with his head a little. It's made him paranoid that you two aren't who you say you are. I know he'll come around once he calms down."

"Messed with his _head?"_ Shadwell said in a mocking tone, pointing a ragged finger at the angel. The nail looked bloodied around the edges. He'd been biting them quite badly since the evening started; he sucked on dirty cuticles every time something smashed against the door. "Out there is a kind of primal threat Earth hasn't faced since the old days and you're going to tell me the wanker **_needs a little nap?!_ **I'm beginning to wonder who's really under some kind of influence."

Tracy wiped the sweat from her brow, catching her breath before starting another row of sigils. "Please! A little empathy would go a long way. Stop tormenting him and help me. I need something else to write with before I run out. I don't quite remember how Anathema said to draw it, we were in such a hurry... oh, I hope this is right." 

Aziraphale knew those little patterns would hardly keep anything out, but he didn't interrupt. The idea that they had to block out something in the first place was making his mind hurt. This was _Crowley_. He'd never do anything hurt anyone. He was a being of mischief and a bit of trickery, not of evil. 

"It's all my fault, all my fault, all my fault," The angel repeated quietly, searching his memory for a solution. He knew how to fight against demons. It wasn't as though he hadn't fended off one or two back when they were first swiping their claws at the innocent, filled with new confidence of their roles on Earth. Right now... he was drawing a blank. It was as though someone had gone through his mind with a pencil and re-wrote everything. He surely had answers, but all he could remember was Crowley.

The sweet smells of chocolate and chai still wafted around the place, full of warmth and comfort and the solace of those quiet morning hours. Even now he remembered the past few weeks with fondness, picturing their morning together and how safe he felt nestled in Crowley's arms. His stomach was still comfortably full from indulgence after indulgence. There was a speck of ice cream that'd fallen on his coat and dried there, a flower he'd been gifted in his coat pocket. He'd allowed himself to forget how dire the situation was. He'd gotten careless.

He'd rested in this room, spreading out his wings their full width under Crowley's hands, and for not even an instant had he feared for his safety. Even now he couldn't find it in himself to think of the beast as a threat. To the furnishings, perhaps, but that wasn't exactly anything new. He could put everything back together with a miracle or two, make this all as if nothing had ever happened. They could get through this, and things would somehow be alright. Wouldn't they?

"Blaming yourself won't do anything." Tracy soothed, rubbing his shoulder with her free hand. "You need to focus on the present for the time being. These won't hold off so much power for long, I'm afraid, but might you have something we could use?"

"I..." _I have a sword_ , he could've said. A sword of light and grace, and all-consuming heat. A weapon made exactly for a situation like this; to melt into the flesh of the impure, disintegrate anything that sought to harm humans. It was his function, after all. He wanted to protect, keep everyone safe, but... that meant _everyone_.

"Surely this is all the result of frayed nerves and a great misunderstanding!"

"He really has lost it," Shadwell said, searching his pockets for a lighter. "Check the drawers for pencils, he has to keep them somewhere, n'less he's too lazy to write by hand."

"What if I go to him?", Aziraphale said softly, lowering his gaze to the floor, "Talk with him a little, let him see your side of things. He's frazzled and isn't able to be rational in his current state."

It suddenly became a lot quieter outside. The racket of things smashing against the walls had ceased, but the thick tension in the air lingered, along with Shadwell's judgmental stare. 

"Dearie, that's... that's an _interesting_ idea" Tracy said, "But it isn't the right thing to do in the present moment. You should not, under any circumstances, leave this room. You're not quite yourself either, I think."

The noises picked up again, louder more violent. Animalistic shrieking, loud thudding above, below, and on every side. One of Aziraphale's figurines must've been tossed against the wall because the next moment it fell to the floor with a resounding clatter. 

The ground was vibrating under their shoes, and random objects started to float from their places, books flapping open like wind was rushing against them. Shadwell caught a few of them and threw them back to the ground as if in retaliation, cursing through heaving breaths.

Little spikes were coming through the floorboards now. Something akin to sharp canines that swelled out of nothing into these monstrous bony saws. They split their way through with ease and glinted in what little light was left. It was what he'd expected Hell to throw his way sooner or later, but it was odd watching it happen before his own eyes. Somehow they seemed too... vainglorious to resort to the primeval tactics. Not to mention seeing teeth outside of the human body was much less effective after the profession of dentistry came about.

The angel felt little shocks of sensation behind his neck, tiny rushes of freezing air raising goosebumps on his skin. He knew Crowley wasn't behind him, but he felt almost like something was breathing up his throat. 

Trickles of something dark and thick oozed up from the floorboards, accumulating around the soles of their shoes. Aziraphale looked down at the murk curiously, tapping his feet to feel how viscous it was. Wetness seeped into his shoes, curling around his toes. Shadwell, on the other hand, shrieked like he'd touched a hot stove and jumped onto a chair to get as far as he could from the growing pool. Tracy soon followed, climbing up on a desk, mouthing something at the man with a terrified look.

"You're telling me you want to have a casual heart-to-heart with whatever's out there right now?! How blind av' you become, winged bastard? I'll sooner choke you with your own halo before I let you open that door."

"Am I making things worse? Oh, I'm sorry. It seems everything I do these days just..." He huddled back into the armchair and let out a hopeless sigh, sinking his head back. "I apologize, I just don't know what to do. Of all beings, I should be the one to bring confidence and strength, and all I can offer is this idiocy. I don't deserve my title. Oh Mother, please don't punish anyone but me. Let them go, keep them safe."

He stared up at the light fixture on the ceiling, now a dim, flickering blue instead of its usual golden radiance.   
His ears buzzed with warm static, his whole body nearly floating with the rest of the furniture in the room, yielding to forces beyond his control. The only thing keeping him grounded was the knowledge that he still had to somehow see things through. If Crowley couldn't protect himself from whatever evil was contorting his thoughts, he had to do it himself. For all he know, there was a whole army of Hell lined up outside, using the demon as a puppet. He couldn't bear that thought.

A string of objects flew at the humans, cornering the both of them against the wall.   
While they were distracted, the angel heard something whisper behind him, through the wall. It was unmistakably Crowley's voice, much more himself than the monstrous cries had sounded this past hour. He sounded small and sorrowful, and Aziraphale immediately wanted to console him.

" _Angel, please, please, please_ ," he repeated in barely audible breaths, a soft thump sounding after every word like he was rocking his head against the wall. "It hurts. It hurts to be without you. I can't bear it. Please help me."

Aziraphale couldn't speak. What could he possibly say? His one true friend, someone he'd grown to know more than anyone, someone who had seen him at his best and now his worst... he was pleading to him. 

"Don't leave me out here all alone. My world is nothing but fire without you. I never understood what it meant to suffocate until now. I may not need oxygen, but I need _you_. It feels like my ribs are clamping shut together, like a maw biting down, grinding... what's happening to me?" 

"It's only the bond, Crowley," Aziraphale said in a hushed voice. He hardly registered the humans fighting against invisible forces, repeatedly knocked over into whatever sulfuric-smelling substance coated the ground. 

"I know you must feel horrible, but it's only a perception. You're physically alright... aren't you?" He didn't believe a single word he spoke, doubting with every passing second that Crowley was going to make it out of tonight in one piece.   
The idea that he was going to be broken by this, slowly snuffed out by forces Aziraphale had brought upon him was beyond cruel. Maybe this was his punishment after all this time; maybe She wanted him to live with the weight of Crowley's de- No, he wouldn't even finish that thought. "Please, tell me what to do. I'm completely at a loss, and I will do everything in my power to fix things if I can."

"The store's burning down out here. Can't you smell it?" The angel paused and sniffed, gasping when he recognized the familiar stench of burning leather, of paper crisping under immense heat. "They did this. They never trusted you. The little maggots feared your power, they were scared of all you're capable of. Aziraphale, if you don't do something, it's all going to go up in flames like last time, and there'll be no going back."

Aziraphale felt sick like his body was stricken with a terrible fever and he was powerless to stop it. The realization that he was losing his books, his haven, _his best friend_... had him holding his mouth to stifle a scream.

"Crowley, when did-" He was already running for the door, wincing as he pulled it open and was met with a wave of stinging heat. 

Fire. Fire everywhere. It was happening again, right before his eyes, and he was powerless to stop it.

"What in the name of-" Shadwell started, though he'd shriveled back into the room as sparks whipped at him.

"Crowley! Where are you?!" the angel called, looking wide-eyed at billowing flames that melted tapestries and his most precious of collections. "I didn't want this, I- I'm so sorry!"

He didn't know if the demon could hear him, or if he was even still alive. Perhaps somehow the bond had been shattered, and he'd been discorporated. Maybe he was never coming back, maybe his body was being turned to smoldering pieces in this fire, little more than mortal to this curse of a connection. And it was all Aziraphale's fault.

He heard a small hint of a voice somewhere far off as if muffled by floorboards and traveling smoke. It sounded strangled and weak, and he didn't wait to listen. He flung himself away from Shadwell's grabbing hands, barreling through the flames regardless of how it burned him. He didn't feel anything, he didn't care. He had to save Crowley or anything that was left of him. 

The wall of fire behind him, Aziraphale searched wildly for any sign of the demon. There was so much smoke he sucked in with each breath, and if he'd been in a clearer mindset he would've stopped breathing altogether. The pain didn't matter either way.

"Crowley, I'm here, where are you?" he sobbed, his whole body aching and pounding with fear. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Cr-"

He felt something softly press down on his shoulder, and he turned around just in time to see the demon looking down at him from the ceiling with the most careless smile. 

" _You've come back to me,_ _**my** angel_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Okay so I might've lied just a liiiiil bit in my intro..
> 
> Here's some cocoa to warm your soul, though it's frozen solid ☕ I'm sure the fire will heat it right up!~
> 
> Hoping to get my next update out in time for Halloween so I can get my spooky on. Gonna try to post a short stand alone somethin pretty soon as well... not sure if I want something more serious or light and fluffy. Thoughts?
> 
> Either way, I hope ya'll have a wonderful day/night/endless void of timeless space! ❤❤❤


	9. Just a Little Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAAAPPYYY HALLOWEEEEEN!! 🔥🎃🔥  
> Wishing you the most lovely night of spooks on this O-cursed day, and that werewolves and pumpkin creatures do not invade your home.

The first thing Aziraphale noticed when he started to regain consciousness was how comfortable he felt, considering he was laying on freezing cold hardwood. He wasn't in pain, just lethargic from what felt like a very long sleep. He could still smell wisps of smoke in the air, so it couldn't have been more than an hour at most since he passed out.

Crowley. What on Earth had happened to Crowley?! He couldn't afford to waste another second, even while his arm ached underneath his torso as he struggled to wake up his body. He must've been knocked out by a falling piece of wood from the ceiling during the fire- now that he thought about it, there was no sign of shouldering embers. He considered that he might've been able to somehow pull off a miracle to put it out before he was hit, or maybe the humans were responsible. There wasn't a fire extinguisher in the shop, but Madam Tracy was crafty. She could find many substitutes in the place, he supposed.

_Creak_

" _Mmhh_..." he groaned, willing enough strength back into his being to lift his head from the- oh. He wasn't lying on the floor after all. He looked down at the cool gleam of scales and realized his chest was draped over one long expanse of a coil. His legs were caught under another, and he wondered if that's how he'd fallen. In all that panic, Crowley could've accidentally knocked him over.

"Crowley?" he called, looking for any sign of the demon's face, serpentine or otherwise. 

_Rustle_

The tail moved under him, a quiet undulation that flowed through the entirety of the tendrils around him in a long breath. It was like a ripple of water, and the rest of the scales were momentarily cast in a small flicker of reflected light. It was hard to see in the dark room. All the lights had gone out and there wasn't even a match to light his way. Aziraphale strained to look around, rubbing his eyes.

_Tik tok_

He was in the dead center of the shop, and there was a spiral of coils all around him, blanketed across the whole room. Some wound in between bookcases, others trailed up walls, and all the doors and windows were barricaded off by large bundles of them. They reminded Aziraphale of thick cobwebs in a forgotten building, lining every nook and cranny the eye could see.

"Are you alright? Please tell me where you are. Well, I suppose you're _everywhere_ right now, but just - oh Crowley, how do I even begin to apologize to you? I didn't mean for any of these to happen. Please just tell me you're okay."

_Scratch_

The angel rose to his feet after struggling to pull himself from under the makeshift duvet, narrowing down his panicked thoughts to just the essentials. Looking over his shoulder, it seemed the study was safe from the fire. The door was shut tight, and there wasn't a single hint of charred wood on the outside. He didn't hear any worried voices; nothing at all now that he listened. There wasn't the hum of a car engine speeding by, nor the call of busy neighbors, not even the chirp of birds. The entire store was shrouded in quiet.

_Rumble_

"I know you must be dreadfully cross with me after leaving you outside, but what else could I do? I thought I was doing what's best for you, and I can see now that it was a horrible idea. I had no idea it'd be dangerous for you, merely the separation of a bit of wood and wallpaper. I didn't know our connection was so strong. I'd remain in this bond of ours forever if it meant it would ensure your safety."

_Purr_

Aziraphale gasped when something brushed over his foot, and he soon realized that the coils were starting to close in around him. He couldn't do much but wait and watch, curiously bending down to pet over the scales. There wasn't any sign of injury, but he couldn't even be sure the creature that was caging him in was his friend. It could be any beast of Hell taking on the demon's form in an attempt to trick him.

He didn't know how the bond had affected them both, but at this point, he assumed it had perhaps created some kind of link to Hell. For all, he knew there was an entire legion of evil creatures waiting to claw his throat out if he made the wrong move. He had to be cautious.

"Crowley? Is that you?" He felt like an idiot repeating the name over and over, careful not to raise his voice too high. He thought perhaps the rafters might come down on him if he did. Looking up, it seemed all these serpentine ropes were nestled against the ceiling too. Above, below, lining every wall and bookshelf. He'd never seen Crowley stretch his vessel out so far. He was used to a much more compact form, and he'd forgotten the beast could occupy an entire room if he chose to.

"You can do this, angel..." he whispered to himself, clasping his hands in front of his chest. "The night's not over yet. Whatever's crept its way into your home, you can beat it. The fate of so many others' rests on your shoulders. You're a soldier of the lord, and protector of the innocent and just."

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Clang clang clang!_

He felt foolish jumping as he did, eyes shooting over to the old grandfather clock behind some bookcases. His nerves were alight, ready to use his fists if necessary. He didn't have powers or any weapons to fight off a villain, but he'd use whatever was available. 

"That doesn't do much for the ears, does it?" a voice droned above him, catching the angel off guard. It was both a chill of relief and unease that settled in Aziraphale's bones, the way Crowley sounded so far off and so very _close_. He quickly scanned the room for any sign of him and focused his eyes on a rather alarming display of bony, sharp limbs. Like the appendages of spiders, they all detached themselves from the ceiling so that the demon could slowly lower himself closer to the ground. 

"I'm amazed you still keep that thing. I know it's for sssentimental value, but at the very least you should remove that bloody bell." Aziraphale's cheeks grew rosy as he came into view, chest bare and covered with scales that looked a bit like very sleek chainmail. They climbed up his neck, each catching a glint of what little light was available from above.

"Crowley!" he gasped, reaching his arms up as if the beast might fall at any moment. "Thank goodness you're alright! I thought- oh, I don't know what I thought, but you're here, you're safe, you're speaking to me. I don't know what I would've done if..." He gulped.

He reminded himself that looks could be deceiving. 

The demon disappeared, materializing behind him as soon as he started looking around in worry. 

"Don't think I'm _leaving_ you, do you?" he whispered, voice a soft timbre. Everywhere he appeared there were more coils, circling the angel in a dark path of shiny scales. It seemed his form was growing longer, swallowing up the room till it was just the two of them.

Aziraphale was afraid to touch him, though he wanted to wrap his arms around him and squeeze till the coldness left his chest. What if- assuming he really _was_ Crowley- he was weak after the events of the night? He couldn't bear the thought of hurting him again. "Angel, I promise above all else that I'm going to stay by your side from now on. I'm not angry, not at all... in fact, you made me realize just what I was missing in all this."

"What's that?" A chuckle rumbled through the demon, and Aziraphale felt more at ease, though tensed when Crowley rested his forehead on his shoulder from behind.

"I think you'll come to realize it soon enough. Until then, why don't you just breathe, calm down? I'm here, and I'm going to keep you _ssssafe_. Nobody can hurt us here."

"I... I wish I could believe that, dear." he forced out, recoiling from the touch. "I'm having an awfully hard time calming down right now, considering the circumstances. I'm sure you understand."

"Really?" He extended a hand in the air between them, just brushing a finger over the angel's shoulder. "I think I could help with that."

Aziraphale flinched, but allowed the small movement. He wanted to cry, feeling how _warm_ the demon was, a blissful comfort in that frozen room. A small groan slipped from his mouth, and though he still tried to keep inching away from Crowley, he felt small shocks of euphoria every time the demon crept up behind him.

"You _can't_ , I'm sorry to say. Not until I've figured everything out, not until I know everyone is safe. What's happened to the humans?"

"What humans?"

"Wh-Crowley, don't jest with me. You know exactly who I'm talking about."

"What are their names? Maybe they're out for a sstroll. We get loads of customers all the time. They wander in and out, and you often rush them away when you just want to be alone with me."

"Their... right, their names, um..." Panicking, he searched his memory. He saw only blank faces and hollow voices. "No, I remember them, I do! I just- oh... oh, Crowley, what's wrong with me?"

"Aw, _angel_." he spoke in a voice sweet and soft, closing the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist and pressed his chest up against his back. _Warm_ , so very warm. All the cold was fleeting, all the worry slipping away. "You must be tired and sore after that fall. You're lucky I caught you when I did, or you might've had a nasty bruise." 

Aziraphale made a small squeak, trying to keep himself from relaxing, though all his body wanted to do was curl up in the safety of the demon's arms. He had to stay diligent, he had to ask questions, he had to... oh, he was getting so lightheaded, yet his skull felt heavy. Elation swirled into his thoughts, clouding his mind from what he knew he should say.

Crowley was there, Crowley would take care of him.

"I understand. You're worried I'm not who I say I am, since I left you down here instead of carrying you with me. Aziraphale, how I would've loved to hold you next to me till you came to, but I also didn't want to scare you. I knew you'd be on edge after waking up."

"The... the er... the humans... didn't we have company earlier?"

"Doesn't matter. Don't worry about them. Just you, me, everything you could ever want." Aziraphale felt hairs rising on his nape, holding in small gasps as the beast started trailing the tip of his nose over a nook of the angel's throat, exploring. "'Man is the unnatural animal, the rebel child of nature, and more and more does he turn himself against the harsh and fitful hand that reared him'."

"Hold on... H.G. Wells? I didn't know you read."

"I don't. I listen to you, muttering to yourself throughout those stories like the eccentric thing you are."

"I prefer to think of myself as _knowledgeable_." he chuckled, and realized he was shivering hard, teeth chattering. That was strange, given he was already so relaxed his knees could buckle at any moment. Maybe it was the relief that followed terror, when muscles finally untensed and the heart slowed to a gentle thump.

"I didn't sssay it was a bad thing. You lose yourself in the pages, too absorbed to notice when I look at you."

"Look at me, hm? What could you possibly be gaining from such an unproductive activity?" Another chuckle and he grew closer against the angel's ear.

"I get to see all those little expressions cross your face. Even when you're quiet I know what part of the story you've made it to, because sometimes you glare at the pages, or smirk behind your palm... sometimes I catch a small huff, and I realize our dear hero is struggling against a seemingly unstoppable enemy."

"Goodness, you can tell all that just from watching my face, can you? I'd gladly read more stories out loud to you, you know. All you have to do is ask."

"Oh I know, but then I'd break the spell. It's when you're alone with your thoughts that I see the real Aziraphale behind that polite veil of yours. No logic, no responsibility. Just you and something you love dearly."

"Book... that's right, all my books on the subject of the occult vanished one by one. I didn't notice it at first, I thought I was just being forgetful, but... now that I think about it, you've been doing everything in your power to keep me from reading about soul bonds like this. You've said time and time again that I 'wouldn't find anything in the human books', and you kept trying to distract me with things you knew I'd love."

Crowley twitched against him, holding him just a little tighter. "Sssso? You've been having fun, haven't you? There's no need to worry about that now."

"Well I- no, that's beside the point! You-"

" _You_ sound awfully hungry. You're getting all worked up over nothing... I know, angel, you're scared. The last few days have been all over the place, but the world isn't always out to get you." The angel realized a moment later that Crowley had disappeared from behind him, sliding under a bundle over coils. It was getting hard to see, the length of tail creating a sort of wall between him and the rest of the room. What dim light made it down to his level was hardly enough to see the hands in front of his face.

Before Aziraphale could make another accusation, an apple appeared in his hand, and the demon to his right. 

"There. You don't have to eat it if your stomach is still unsettled right now, but I really think it'd help you calm down."

"Humph, you think I'm that pathetic? That I can be swayed by..." Crowley dangled the fruit next to Aziraphale's lips, eliciting a quiet sniff when he realized how perfectly ripe it was. It wasn't like anything he could find at typical orchards or supermarkets these days. It was as though it was fresh from a grand tree, specks of spring rain dotting the speckled surface. The demon's eyes illuminated the space around them, coating the angel in gold light.

"Come on now, take a bite. I've plenty more to give you, if you only _asssssk_."

"Oh, it does look... no-no! Absolutely not. I'm _not_ hungry, so you can throw it away."

"Well, alright." he shrugged, plucking the piece from Aziraphale's palm and lifting up to his own detached jaw. "More for me."

The angel watched in both horror in fascination while the entire apple slid right down Crowley's throat, easy as could be. That seemed like a bit much even for the demon, especially since it was rare to see him eat anything. 

The beast smiled and licked around his lips, red at the sides from the expansion. "There, couldn't let it go to waste."

Throughout the small exchange the demon had circled around Aziraphale, and it was only now that the angel realized what he was doing. There were coils wrapping around his ankles, and he quickly stumbled back, trying to kick them farther away.

"I think I better go check on the humans now. You seem-you seem alright, so..." He had to jump a little to grasp his upper body onto the wall of coils, attempting to climb over them. It was difficult to get a grip on anything, as the scales were so smooth and everything was _squirming_ beneath him. He kept sliding back down to the ground, and every time Crowley was there behind him, patting his back reassuringly.

"There _aren't_ any humans, angel. Not here, anyway. Sssssss'just you and me, like it always should've been. So, why don't you..." 

Aziraphale paled when the demon began rubbing over his back, smoothing over the places where his wings should be. All at once he felt his knees buckling, memories of all those sweet sensations clouding his thoughts with peace, bliss. Warmth where he needed it most.

He cried out silently, realizing he was falling into that same euphoric mindset, that his wings were manifesting without any control of his own. "Ah, there we are. See? Isn't that better? Sss'alright, just like last time. There's no need to hold anything back. Do you remember how it felt when I put my hands in them, angel?"

Aziraphale did. He'd been thinking about it nearly nonstop, trying to re-create the sensation by smoothing his hands through his hair, but it could never come close to the same serenity he was in yesterday. Or was it a week ago? How long had he been in this room?

Within seconds they'd solidified, resting next to either side of his face. He was thankful for at least the cover to hide his expression, but Crowley was already trailing a finger up an area where his back was exposed under his coat to make room for the new appendage. The root, the region of connection between the ethereal and his human shell. Sharp nail just barely grazed incredibly sensitive skin, where soft down feather met flesh.

In that moment he knew it was hopeless, knees instantly going weak under him. He lost hold of the coils and stumbled backward, quickly caught by waiting arms.

Even as a soldier of Heaven, he was subject to the base of his own instincts. Nurture, protection, assurance... he was as hungry for touch as he was for a nice dinner at the Ritz. Right now he should be feeling the complete opposite of secure, knowing full well that the beast above him couldn't possibly be the Crowley he knew, and yet... and yet...

"There we are, there we are. I've got you." he cooed against Aziraphale's ear, kneading into his shaking arms, chasing away the cold. He rested back into the nest of coils with the angel against him, using every movement to adjust their position till he had a firm but gentle hold on Aziraphale's shoulders and a clear view of his face. He smiled down at him, gaze bathing the angel in light. "Do you want me to touch them again, dove?"

"...Yes. Yes I do." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: just wanted to clear things up real quick, I realize the vibe around the end of the chapter might seem a bit rapey to anyone who isn't like, psychic and knows the author's intentions. Just a reminder that I do NOT write noncon, and that includes cases where one or more characters are unable to give explicit consent due to being under some kind of influence, be it demonic or otherwise.  
> ALSO, there is NO character death in this, in case anyone's worrying about that.
> 
> Thanks for reading!! (❁´◡`❁) I'm gonna go watch Re-Animator now 🧪


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